Heads Will Roll Primer: Characters Sheets, Plot Summary, City Layout
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Roo on 29-04-2011, 19:13:05</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Heads Will Roll Primer: Characters Sheets, Plot Summary, City Layout</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Roo</strong> on <strong>29-04-2011, 19:13:05</strong>
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				<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Reserved Post for Plot Summary Once the Game is Underway</span><br><br></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Links:<br>IC Thread (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=105365.0)<br>OOC Thread (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=105331.0)<br>Sex Thread (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=105367.0)<br></span></div>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Heads Will Roll Primer: Characters Sheets, Plot Summary, City Layout</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Roo</strong> on <strong>29-04-2011, 19:13:30</strong>
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				<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Cape Merrin, Micmac County, Maine</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><br></span><div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong> These are the major city districts and in a list beneath the district is&nbsp; a select number of locations in the city. Browse through these as I have tried to make a few after taking into consideration your character sheets.<br></strong></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><br><strong>Population: 70,000</strong><br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;</span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Old Port District along the Cape Merrin Harbor</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"></span><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Cape Merrin Head Light</strong>- located at the entrance to the Cape Merrin Harbor</span></li></ul><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>The Sea Caves</strong>—hundreds of inlets along the Cape Merrin Harbor actually cast into the land itself and wind back under the city; these are mostly closed off by the city to the public for safety reasons—some caves can fill rapidly with the rising of the tide and there have been numerous drownings over the years.</span></li></ul><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>The Old Fishing Pier</strong>—wooden pier where fishermen walk barefoot and cast out for smallish fish. There is a small screen room restaurant on the pier—Donahugh’s. They serve mostly fresh seafood and cheap local beer. Tuesday nights there is a local band that plays in the restaurant—Jimmy Buffet-style music.</span></li></ul><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"> <strong>Merrin Marina</strong>—a small yacht club and place for the wealthy to store their boats; there is a small clubhouse</span></li></ul><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><br><strong>The Arts District along Meridian Avenue is a collection of art galleries</strong><br></span><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>The Cape Merrin Public Library</strong> is two streets west of the Arts District.</span></li></ul><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Cobb Theatre</strong> is a retro-styled theater that once showed plays but was converted slowly in the post-WWII era into a movie theater. It shows cheap matinees daily and features balcony seating in its largest theater room. </span></li></ul><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><br></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Balfurt Park is a mid-sized park located centrally in the city, near downtown; abuts the Arts District</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"></span><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"> <strong>Event Pavillion</strong></span></li></ul><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Small, Central Lake</strong> where visitors can take out paddle boats that they rent.</span></li></ul><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Black Rock Gallows</strong> is now more commonly referred to as the <strong>Black Rock Kiddie Park</strong>, or at least that’s how municipal authorities refer to it. It was at one time the home of the city gallows and many criminals were hung in the area. Most kids don’t touch the jungle gym and slide, at least if they grew up in this area</span></li></ul><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><br><strong>Financial District/Downtown</strong>—most prominent is the <strong>First Bank of Maine</strong>, the tallest building in the city<br></span><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>St. Agnes Medical Center </strong>is the chief hospital serving all of Cape Merrin.</span></li><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Micmac County Courthouse</strong> and <strong>MicMac County Sheriff’s Department</strong> are seated here as well as the <strong>Cape Merrin PD</strong>.</span></li><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Offices of the <strong>Cape Merrin Gazette</strong> are also part of this area. </span></li></ul><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">&nbsp; </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong> Industrial District is a derelict area consisting of abandoned warehouses <br></strong></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Nightlife </strong></span></div><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>&nbsp; Simon’s Bull</strong>—a rundown old bar on the east side of town.</span></li></ul><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <strong>&nbsp; &nbsp;Club Fate </strong>– Night club that is the most outré of Cape Merrin’s offerings. The few Goths who live in Cape Merrin go nowhere but here.</span></li></ul><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <strong> Gilley’s</strong>—country and western bar near the marina. It has a mechanical bull&nbsp; operated by the ex-convict, Wes Hightower. Rides are $2 each.</span></li></ul><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>&nbsp; O’Brien’s Pub</strong>—attracts most of the community college students; can be rowdy on Friday and Saturday nights.</span></li></ul><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Blinker Town is past the Industrial District is a series of cheap and run down houses as well as a trashy trailer park</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><br></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Suburbia</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"></span><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <strong> The Vinyl Countdown</strong>—a record store that sells vinyl records only.</span></li></ul><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>Totally Fit</strong>- A small gym owned by a Filipino immigrant; it offers not only exercise equipment, but lessons in Escrima.</span></li></ul><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <strong> Bosly's</strong> - The gadgets and gizmos store. Power tools, guns, batteries the works.</span></li></ul><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Sewer System</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong> Cape Merrin Community College</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><br></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"> <strong>The Farmlands is a series of mostly used up farm and pastureland just outside the eastern bounds of the Cape Merrin city limits</strong></span></div><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>Otis Treehaute’s small farm</strong>—5 acres. He has enough pasture for a couple heads of cattle, a horse or two, some sheep, and he has a small but very respectable vegetable patch; he also keeps pigs. He bought this land with the settlement from his spouse’s and children’s life insurance policies and the proceeds from the sale of the home he had occupied with them. His house is neat and small but beneath it he has built a veritable fortress for survival.</span></li></ul><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">&nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Huffy’s Truck Depot</strong>—a place where most truckers stop off to top off their tanks on the way out of town</span></li></ul><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">&nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Beth Anne's</strong> - A small diner that is barely keeping up with the times, but serves pretty good omelets. </span></li></ul><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <strong>&nbsp; &nbsp;The Winthrop House</strong>—just on the edge of town before Cape Merrin becomes the Farmlands, is a 17th-century 4-storey house.</span></li></ul><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"> <strong> Churches</strong></span></div><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <strong> The Immaculate Heart Church </strong>(downtown, adjacent to St. Agnes medical center, Catholic)</span></li></ul><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>The First United Methodist Church </strong>(downtown)</span></li></ul><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <strong> Immanuel Lutheran Church</strong>&nbsp; (Suburbia)</span></li></ul><ul class="bbc_list"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>&nbsp; St Thomas of Canterbury Episcopal Church</strong> (Old Port District)</span></li></ul><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;</span>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Heads Will Roll Primer: Characters Sheets, Plot Summary, City Layout</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vergil1989</strong> on <strong>29-04-2011, 19:27:25</strong>
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				<strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Jason Jefferson.<br>&nbsp;<strong>Character Type:</strong> Indoctrinated.<br><strong>Age;</strong>&nbsp; 31<br>&nbsp;<strong>Physical Description and/or image: Sex:</strong>&nbsp; Male.<br>(http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MR53bEnnqVU/TEYCbvc4C3I/AAAAAAAAAHo/iYJxRmeXvpc/s1600/Dean-Winchester--dean-winchester-69977_600_900.jpg)<br>&nbsp;<strong>Sexual Preferences:</strong>&nbsp; Straight.&nbsp; (Check O/O page for more.&nbsp; Both the one you make by clicking the link at the top and the one listed in the sig lol.)<br>&nbsp;<strong>Skills:</strong>&nbsp; <em>Hand to hand combat experience.</em>&nbsp; Military training, the best the Marines could offer a man like JJ.&nbsp; A natural brawler, Jason trained extensively in many forms of combat until he went home a couple months ago.&nbsp; Even so, he still trains regularly against a punching bag....or the occasional soul sucking demon from Hell.<br><br><em>Marksmanship.</em>&nbsp; Sniper rifles are his specialty, but Jason is proficient in many firearms and knows how to take them apart, as well as putting them together, blindfolded if challenged though he's not as fast as some people are.&nbsp; Even so, he prefers to pick his targets off at a distance, but if the need arises, he loves to the weight of a pump action shotgun in his hands which he's quite deadly with.&nbsp; Too many FPS games will do that.&nbsp; (lol.)<br><br><em>Hacker.</em>&nbsp; He's a computer whiz, having been born around them pretty much.&nbsp; He started hacking when he was twelve years old, nothing big, just to see if he could get away with it.&nbsp; His dad taught him everything he knew, and Jason went from there.&nbsp; Nothing malicious, but information was his specialty and getting it is second nature for him, no matter the source.<br><br><em>Mechanical engineering.</em>&nbsp; When he wasn't hacking, Jason loved tinkering with anything and everything that moved on wheels.&nbsp; Car maintenance was a favorite pastime of his, although he did get into a little trouble when he hotwired a car and drove it off into a ditch, at a slow speed thankfully or he wouldn't be around now.&nbsp; That was when he was 13, and his first driving experience to boot.<br><br><strong>Backstory:</strong>&nbsp; JJ, as he was often called as a kid growing up, had a regular childhood for the most part.&nbsp; No brothers, a single parent that treated him well despite their rocky start.&nbsp; Mother died giving birth to him, but Dad had gotten on well enough afterward.&nbsp; A well paying job in the construction business, old man Jefferson might have worked long hours but he always made time for his kid, his one and only joy that he had left in the world.&nbsp; That gave JJ plenty of time between school and time alone, to get into computers, mostly just picking up the tools of the trade of a hacker at a young age, his keen mind helping him along to keep ahead of those that decided to fight back.&nbsp; He went after sites that promoted hatred of any kind, destroying them with well placed viruses as well as Trojans, bugs, and other nasties he could cook up, all at the same time of covering his tracks, making it seem he was never there, earning him the nickname Ghost among other hackers, no one suspecting he was just a kid.<br><br>Joining the military, more specifically the Marines, just like his old man had before him, Jason left town right after high school graduation, leaving with a perfect academic record, all straight As.&nbsp; He stayed in from 18 to the age of 25, having earned an honorable discharge.&nbsp; It was when he came home that he found out the horrible truth of the world, and that it had far more shadows than he ever could have imagined.&nbsp; War was hell, and he thought he was leaving it all behind.&nbsp; Rumors of a strange woman popping up in town became prevalent when he moved back into his father's home, but he had thought nothing of it at the time until she came to their house.&nbsp; JJ was out with a few old friends from his school days, so he didn't see what came into their house until he got home shortly after it was too late, and his father near death, in his own bedroom, looking like a gaunt skeleton.&nbsp; The woman, a full fledged demon from Hell, a succubus, was firmly planted on his father's dick, riding him for all she was worth and sucking the life out of him at the same time.&nbsp; His father had apparently tried to fight her off, but it had been no use.<br><br>The woman had wings like a bat, horns that curved to the back of her head, and dusky gray skin with red fire like hair falling over her shoulder blades.&nbsp; His father saw him and couldn't even shout a warning as he climaxed one last time before turning to dust, and the bitch demon from Hell climbed off and turned towards the son.&nbsp; "Oh, such a strong little man aren't you?"&nbsp; Her voice seemed to caress Jason's ears, as if she had her lips to them, and despite the horrible scene he had just witnessed, his groin responded long before the rest of him caught up.&nbsp; "I've had my fill for the night, but I think I might come back for you later."&nbsp; With a laugh that chilled his bones, Jason watched the succubus disappear in a flash of fire and smoke, leaving Jason with the dust that used to be his father on the bed.&nbsp; That was the start, and he has yet to find that 'woman', but he knows what is out there and he's made it his personal mission to kill every single one of the bastards he comes across.<br><br>Driving his father's car that he and him had put together from scratch, and purred like a kitten for that matter, JJ left it all behind that terrible night without a single word, burning down the homestead in the process since his father would have wanted it that way.&nbsp; The car his dad had started with his own, and had kept it up pretty well, and it was Jason and his own father that finished it up.&nbsp; It was the only thing that he had left that wasn't either stolen, made from scratch, or otherwise faked in some form or another.&nbsp; It was the only thing he kept that was truly his and his family.&nbsp; And...it was the only thing that he could have bore to take with him without breaking down into tears.<br><br>For money, he does fix things when he's asked, for the right price, but otherwise he usually commits credit card fraud, hacking rich people's bank accounts, among other things, although he hates to do that since it leaves a trail.&nbsp; Beyond that, the occasional odd job helps to keep food in his stomach and ammo in his weapons, as well as gas in the tank of course.<br><br>(http://static.dailystrength.org/groupfiles/2/5/4/5/10005452/g_244654681.jpg)
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				Title: <strong>Re: Heads Will Roll Primer: Characters Sheets, Plot Summary, City Layout</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AndyZ</strong> on <strong>29-04-2011, 19:27:38</strong>
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				(I'll try to use he as a pronoun to avoid the usual problems of switching around, unless he's in a female form.) <br><br>Name: Arathel<br>Character Type: (Initiate, Indoctrinated, or Monster) Monster<br>Physical Description and/or image: Sex:<br>(http://img820.imageshack.us/img820/7963/1266362598130.jpg)<br>Arathel appears alternatively male, female or androgynous depending on a number of factors, but his true form is androgynous.&nbsp; However, his true form is one that is rarely seen.&nbsp; Even when revealed in the white robes and angel wings, most people simply can't seem to see anything other than an ordinary man or woman.&nbsp; However, Hunters and those more aware of the true nature of the world have little trouble seeing the angel form once he reveals himself, though he doesn't do so casually.<br>The three forms that others have seen him in which appear mortal are: <br>A young man in a white T-shirt, faded jeans and sneakers.<br>A younger woman dressed in a white dress, purse and heels.<br>A hermaphrodite dressed in an expensive but somewhat pale business suit.<br>Each of the three have the fiery red hair and the green eyes of the angel's true form, and each one could easily be mistaken for siblings of the others.&nbsp; It's rare but not unheard of for someone to see him in one particular form and actually end up seeing an alternate form which they recognize.&nbsp; Further clarification below:<br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">He effectively has four forms that he can choose to appear in, the angel form, or one of the three human forms.&nbsp; While in one of the human forms, it is possible once in a great while that he will seem to one of the other humans to be in an alternate form.&nbsp; The reasoning for this is because the person recognizing the glitch has seen the angel before and recognizes him, even though he's in an alternate human form.&nbsp; The three forms do look similar enough that he can easily be recognized anyway if one knows what to look for; the three are close enough to be siblings or closely related.<br><br>For example, let's say that he appears in female form to start off.&nbsp; She will head around the place, say hi to everyone, introduce herself as Arathel and so on.&nbsp; Now Sam and Max see her, meet her, greet her and so on, as do others.&nbsp; Now, later on he meets them in male form.&nbsp; <br><br>Sam will see him and have very little trouble recognizing Arathel despite the different form because they're so similar.&nbsp; Max, however, is one of the rare exceptions.&nbsp; For some unknown reason, he'll see Arathel in his female form still, still recognizing Arathel but his brain just has an easier time processing that it's the same female that he met before.&nbsp; Arathel has no control over this aspect of things.<br><br>If Arathel is in angel form, mortals who aren't used to the supernatural will see him just as one of the three forms, maybe at random, maybe whatever they feel most comfortable with or is most beautiful.</div></div><br><br>&nbsp;Sexual Preferences: Heterosexual in male form, bisexual in female form, attracted to females in hermaphrodite form, asexual in angel form<br>&nbsp;Skills: (list 3, one of which may be combat or very physical for Initiates; 4, two of which may be combat-related for the Indoctrinated)&nbsp; Melee Weaponry, Empathy, and Musical Instruments.<br>Backstory: (This doesn't need to be as long as the example below but should be at least one solid paragraph.)<br><br>Arathel is rather silent about his true upbringings and backstory, but those who have seen his wings, his white robes and the glow from his form have little choice but to recognize an angel.&nbsp; Some have theorized that he doesn't willingly explain himself in order not to tarnish the faiths of others, others that his existence is a mockery in an attempt to convince people of untruths.&nbsp; Arathel simply seems more concerned in actions than words and guesswork.<br><br>He's shown an ability to heal and seems to be able to call a flaming sword from nowhere, with which he is exceptionally proficient.&nbsp; Just as with his true form, however, the flaming sword appears perfectly mundane to those unaware of the supernatural, who see either a mundane sword, a torch or flashlight, or something similar.&nbsp; He can also summon a golden harp in the same method, which he sometimes plays beautifully.&nbsp; Occasionally he can be seen out in public in one of his human forms, playing the harp for tips.<br><br>Further, he seems to be able to judge the hearts and minds of those he sees, recognizing the good and evil as easily as others would notice colors.&nbsp; He doesn't seem to have to eat or sleep as well, and his healing, though not instantaneous, is somewhat quicker than ordinary people, occurring in hours instead of days.<br><br>One of the stranger things about him seems to be his concept of life and death.&nbsp; Though most would traditionally expect an angel to be strongly devout to saving every life possible, Arathel is more devoted to the greater good and is willing to let people die for a cause.<br><br>With the world in the sorry state that it's in, sometimes it can be hard to believe that an angel could just appear from nowhere to save people.&nbsp; Sometimes it just seems a little too convenient.<br><br>When Arathel first came to Earth, swooping down to the ground with the speed and burning precision of a meteor, the only ones to witness the crater that he left in the cement were Otis and the large gathering of vampires that Otis had been hunting.&nbsp; It would be difficult to say who rescued whom, but between the two of them, and a lot of luck, they managed to dispatch enough to send the other monsters running.&nbsp; Ever since, Arathel has been living on the farmstead with Otis, watching for those who seem worthy of his aid.<br><br>Short term goals: Ally with hunters to destroy monsters and save the innocent<br><br>Long term goals: GM secret ^_^
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				Title: <strong>Re: Heads Will Roll Primer: Characters Sheets, Plot Summary, City Layout</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Shihong</strong> on <strong>29-04-2011, 19:28:19</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://img838.imageshack.us/img838/9682/boxingwoman.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Delilah Etienne<br><strong>Character Type:</strong> Indoctrinated<br><strong>Physical Description and/or image:</strong> Delilah is a powerhouse of a woman, standing at about six foot two inches and weighing in at a fiercely athletic 164 pounds.&nbsp; This is a chick who cares not one jot about what other people think of her or her gender, prizing personal wellness and strength above all else.&nbsp; Her dirty blonde hair is typically cut short and slicked back out of her face, practical and professional.&nbsp; But for all the muscle and confident swagger, it's Delilah's eyes that really draw one in and send them reeling backwards in equal measure.&nbsp; Like two glaciers they are, a blue so blinding as to be nearly white, glaring with all the intensity of a hawk scoping out its prey.<br><br>She's never found without coils of silver chain around her arms and neck (though the latter are designed to snap off easily enough), and even a few wrapped about her abdomen for good measure.<br><br><strong>Sex:</strong> Female<br><strong>Sexual Preferences:</strong> Isn't picky.<br><strong>Skills:</strong> <br><ul class="bbc_list"><li><em>Street-Fighting</em>: Though not professionally taught in any established martial art, Delilah is a bruiser through and through.&nbsp; Years spent in illegal underground fighting rings have taught her much about surviving in close quarters with a desperate combatant.&nbsp; Every weakness can be taken advantage of, every object in sight can be used as a weapon, and no rules apply when it comes to defending yourself from harm.&nbsp; The woman fights like a feral cat with the strength of a small bear, and is generally extremely unpredictable with her movements; such is the strength of her improvisation.</li><li><em>Marksmanship:</em> Delilah first held a rifle in her grip at the age of six, and knew all the intricacies of most firearms by the age of seven.&nbsp; By eight she could reliably dismantle and reassemble just about any rifle, pistol, or shotgun she was presented with.&nbsp; Sometimes it pays to have a father with a healthy love of Second Amendment.&nbsp; She's a damn good shot and she knows it, and will always try to put as much space between her and her opponent when she can manage it.</li><li><em>Singing:</em> Those who have actually heard her claim that Delilah's voice could melt even the blackest of hearts, but they are few and far between.&nbsp; The most she manages most days is a lilting hum, or some old tune whispered under the breath whenever she thinks she's alone.&nbsp; A broken songbird.</li><li><em>Survival:</em> Though at her prime in marshlands and other damp climates, Delilah knows how to live off the land for long stretches of time without contact with civilization.&nbsp; She prefers to stalk her targets in cities and towns, but if it comes down to it she would stalk right into the belly of the beast if it gave her the opportunity to gut it like a fish.</li></ul><br><strong>Backstory: </strong><br><br>Hailing from deep in the swamps of Louisiana and born to an old Cajun ex-Marine and his second-generation French immigrant wife, Delilah had a rather unconventional upbringing.&nbsp; Her father had been shooting for a son to carry on his legacy, but when he wound up with a daughter his stubbornness just wouldn't allow him to be disappointed.&nbsp; Gender be damned, Savoi was going to <em>have</em> the rough-and-tumble child he'd wanted.&nbsp; As soon as she was old enough for her blonde locks to start getting long, he promptly buzzed 'em right off and raised her as the boy he couldn't manage to get.<br><br>Of course, his wife didn't simply exist in the background.&nbsp; Dione (who had been adamant about naming her daughter something appropriately feminine, much to her husband's chagrin) taught her what it meant to be a young lady whenever her dad wasn't around to get all irate about it.&nbsp; Fortunately for him, it became swiftly apparent that she took after her dad's sensibilities.<br><br>The family lived out on the water in a particularly scenic part of the state where the air wasn't quite so filthy with mosquitoes, but the nights were often noisy as the swamp came alive with all manner of wildlife.&nbsp; On more than one occasion a wily snapper or an alligator would wander too close to the front porch and need to be staved off with shovel (for the former) or a well-placed shot between the eyes (for the latter), and Savoi made damn sure his daughter knew the proper respect that a loaded firearm deserved.<br><br>It wasn't the guns that Delilah loved though, for her dad had more talents than just being ornery and ex-military.&nbsp; Like many down that way he fancied himself a bit of a saxophonist.&nbsp; <em>Unlike</em> many down that way, he also happened to be a damn good one.&nbsp; His instrument had been passed down from his father, and he'd taken to it like a fish to water.&nbsp; It was a massive thing, for his old man had been a veritable giant, and as a kid Delilah couldn't even manage to get her hands around it.&nbsp; So she'd merely listen to her dad play whatever came to mind, all the feelings he was too gruff and proud to talk about washing out of him in his music.&nbsp; It was never more to him than a side hobby, an excuse to go down to the local bar and play for tips, but to her it was the gateway to a strange and exciting world of sound and expression.<br><br>Unfortunately, it wasn't a world that she'd ever get to experience.&nbsp; It was sweltering night when her childhood came to an abrupt end, at only eleven years old.&nbsp; A noise woke her in the night, the sound of splintering wood punctuated by two sharp cracks from a rifle, a crash, then silence.&nbsp; After a few minutes and no word from her father, she'd plucked up the nerve to venture out of her room, through the billowing mosquito nets, and down the hall to the parlor.&nbsp; <br><br>The walls were painted a sickly shade of red and the humid air stank of bile and excrement, but they were merely the horrid backdrop to the <em>thing</em> dominating the center of the room.&nbsp; It was, quite simply, the largest god forsaken alligator that the girl had ever seen, and what's more it was <em>standing upright on two legs</em>.&nbsp; Everything was off about it, from the hulking shoulders and the too-large arms rippling with muscle and ending in a too-human fist, to the twisted smile that was too sadistic to possibly be natural.&nbsp; It stared at her out of the corner of its eyes, stark blue pools that practically mirrored her own in their sheer coldness, grotesquely tilting its head back to swallow the morsel of meat that had once been her father's right arm.&nbsp; <br><br><em>"Sorry, sweety,"</em> it said, sounding not unlike a man attempting to whisper cruelly through a mouth full of razorblades and broken glass, <em>"But yer a wee too small fer my likin'.&nbsp; Maybe I'll come back fer ya in a few years, when ya put summir meat on dem bones, eh?"</em><br><br>He laughed then, a hateful sound that would stay with Delilah for the rest of her natural life.&nbsp; Unthinking, numbed to what she was witnessing, her small body jumped at the rifle the beast had forgotten on the floor.&nbsp; The monster sideswiped her with the entire length of his powerful arm, flicking her into the wall like a worn out ragdoll, but not before a single shot rang out and a fountain of blood splattered from what had once been the thing's right eye.&nbsp; The last thing she remembered was a pained roar, an explosion of wood, and utter darkness.<br><br>The next few years were not kind to Delilah, and she wasn't kind to them.&nbsp; The mere fact that she'd managed to survive was nothing short of a miracle according to the doctors, but she knew better.&nbsp; The Etienne's were made of sterner stuff than that.&nbsp; But her father was dead, and her mother with him, and she knew that whatever distant family would come to claim her would be no family of hers.&nbsp; Turns out she didn't have much to worry about in that regard, as the only blood she had was either too drunk and unfit to take up the responsibility, disinterested in accepting her, or back in Europe and far out of reach.&nbsp; Much to the surprise of her physicians and the police, she insisted on being put up in an orphanage.&nbsp; Of the talking alligator she told no one.&nbsp; She was a kid, but she wasn't stupid.&nbsp; The last thing she needed was to get sent off to the Funny Farm, not when there was a murderous git that needed to get what was coming to him.<br><br>Her education was questionable, and she gave the Sisters and just about every other authority figure all the trouble she could muster up, but she was smart and learned quickly whenever she applied herself to something.&nbsp; It's just that she tended to apply herself to target practice out in the woods and beating up schoolboys in back alleys, was all.<br><br>When she came of age, having done a damned good job driving away anyone who would even dare to think about adopting her, she received all of her parent's possessions and their property, as per their joint-will.&nbsp; They had put everything they had into raising her--their money, their time, their hopes and dreams, and ultimately their lives.&nbsp; It would take some doing, but she wasn't about to let all of that go to waste.&nbsp; She sold the property and all the old wounds that came with it, bought a sturdy truck with a flatbed, and packed up all the essentials (the guns, mostly) before hitting the road and the wider world.&nbsp; <br><br>She knew what her prey was from books nicked from the library.&nbsp; A Skin-walker, a half-man who could wear the guise of any animal (or <em>person)</em> he chose by wearing its pelt in order to pass through the wilderness unchecked, and whose voice as as malleable as water and could deceive any who heard it.&nbsp; Knowing that the killer could be anyone or anything did not deter her, for those ungodly <em>eyes</em> were burned into her vision, staring back at her every time she fell to slumber.<br><br>And she knew exactly what she would do to the bastard once she tracked it down.&nbsp; Savoi's old saxophone had still been at his side when the man was torn apart.&nbsp; It was a grim realization that her arms were large enough to hold it properly, only now that it had been stained with his blood.&nbsp; She didn't dare to play it, but took a few lengths of steel and welded them to support its brass frame, covering the bend with cruel silver spikes, and added a sizable handle just past the mouthpiece.&nbsp; To anyone else it would have been a desecration to mutilate the treasured heirloom like that, but in her eyes it seemed a most fitting instrument of revenge.<br><br>The past few decades have been spent on the road, taking odd jobs here and there for a few months at a time whilst tracking down whatever shifters she could find, conversing with others of her informal trade and those who knew the Old Legends themselves.&nbsp; Delilah's been working as an <strong>interstate truck driver</strong> for the past few years, using her shipping lanes as a convenient excuse to travel about the country while getting paid to do it.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Heads Will Roll Primer: Characters Sheets, Plot Summary, City Layout</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>TheHangedOne</strong> on <strong>29-04-2011, 19:34:02</strong>
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				Name: Leofwine "Leof" Carter<br>Character Type: Indoctrinated<br>Physical Description and/or image: <br>(http://i27.photobucket.com/albums/c195/TheOneTheOnlyTheShane/AveryWattsSorumNoceBW.jpg)<br>Sex: Male<br>Sexual Preferences: Heterosexual, slightly kinky; light bondage/femdom, masochistic tendencies. <br>Skills: <br>First Aid ( (Un)conventional ): Their are plenty of ways to treat a wound, and he's starting to learn them to help out others. This includes using herbal compresses (as often featured in his Iron Shirt training, below), as well as how to do things such as (but not limited to) making impromptu splints, stitching wounds with a needle and thread.&nbsp; In addition to this, he does know his way around a first aid kit. <br>Escrima (Knife): Escrima is a Filipino martial arts school that focuses on the use of actual, some times improvised, weapons. Leofwine, despite his gentle nature, is quite well with smaller blades, and usually carries a seven inch folding pocket knife for this reason. <br>Escrima (Staff): As mentioned above, Escrima is a school of martial arts that focuses on using weapons besides the wielders hand and feet. Leofwine is good at using lengths of wood, metal pipe, etc. as a staff like weapon. <br>Iron Shirt: &nbsp;(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iron_shirt) Training under this form of martial arts has led to him having a high degree of pain tolerance, as well as stamina. <br>Backstory: Leofwine's mostly been seen&nbsp; as a gentle soul, which to many, makes the fact he is so martially focused seem....strange. However, he all too quickly brushes it off. It's good exercise, it's for self defense only, so on, so forth. <br><br>Back when he was 17, he found himself in a rather awkward position. His first encounter with the supernatural.&nbsp; He had been hanging out with his friends at a snack bar, during which time he had somehow manage to draw the damnable attention of a vampire to himself. Leofwine was not sure what she wanted, or why she had followed him, but the woman did follow him, and he only seemed to become aware of the presence once he had seen that the rest of his friends got home.<br><br>At first, her approach had been a simple one. The lady in the red dress was new to the city, she was lost, and she wanted to know if he could help her. Not thinking much on the matter, he had said yes, he could, and that's exactly what he did. They chatted casually about a few things as they walked.<br><br>Then, when finding her home, things took a turn for the odd. She wanted him to come in, have a drink. He told her he couldn't do that, he was underage. She thanked him for being such a polite, truthful young gentleman; a fact that probably saved his life. Nonetheless, she encouraged him to at least take a bottle of water for his trip home, and since he was indeed thirsty, he acquiesced.<br><br>The following events were something akin to a blur. He found himself forced up against a wall, and practically being raped; like an animal, she ripped and tore away at the accursed shirt that had dared to cover his neck, and then she was...kissing him..? No, no, something worse than that. She bit him!<br><br>And the vampire drank. She filled herself up on the tasty mortal, but not to the point of death. No, she left him alive, and she even let him go, with the warning that if he ever came back, if he said anything to anyone about this encounter, she would end him; and that would be such a shame, wouldn't it?<br><br>That was eight years ago. It was during this time that Leofwine took up his Escrima and Iron Shirt training, seeking a way to not only keep himself in peak physical shape, but so that he would be ready for if and when he ever encountered another 'monster'. It should be noted however, that he doesn't truly view such entities as monsters right off the bat; just like real people, different creatures must surely possess different temperaments, different attitudes, different philosophies about life, and that was what was more important than what they were. <br><br>He sees his role in life to be three-fold: protect innocents from the predations of the more violent and homicidal monsters. Redeem those monsters which still have a sense of humanity intact. Tend to the wounds of those who share his cause or those that have been injured by the predations of monsters. <br><br>Secretly, he hopes to one day find the Lady In The Red Dress, as he refers to her. <br><br>Leofwine currently works at a gym/dojo type building called "Totally Fit". He is an assistant to the Eskrima teacher there, a job that pays well enough and offers him free training (technically speaking). His apartment, a spartan, utilitarian affair, is about three blocks away from it. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Heads Will Roll Primer: Characters Sheets, Plot Summary, City Layout</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kaisude</strong> on <strong>29-04-2011, 19:34:44</strong>
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				Name: Micheal Summers<br>Age: 27<br>Character Type: Indoctrinated<br>Physical Description and/or image:&nbsp; (http://i33.photobucket.com/albums/d63/Honri89/Joe-Manganiello-true-blood-13803554-476-600.jpg)<br>Micheal is a tall man 6'4 to be exact. He's a buff tough son of a bitch. Practically bronzed skin complexion, and chocolate brown hair which; he wears slicked back. He has a thin strip of a beard stretching from his side burns connecting at his chin. His eyes an almond shape with brown chocolate hues. He tends to wear loose clothing, something he can move freely. A hoodie and track pants is the usual apparel. Colors are a cliche red or black most likely both.&nbsp; <br>Sex: Male<br>Sexual Preferences: Heterosexual<br>Skills: <br>Craftsman- Micheal is a handy man in sorts, can fix, break and re fix things. He's also a creator he likes to tinker so inventions are made. <br>Hand To Hand- Micheal is a natural brawler. He believes the only way to fight is with fist. Not to mention the minor muay Thai lessons he had. <br>Knife Handle- It's not very often that he uses it, but Micheal is also a bit of a swordsman. <br>Morale booster- Despite the hard times now, and the hard times ahead Micheal does his best to keep spirits up. Some might find small joy others could feel brand new. He does his best. <br>Job: Works at Bosly's shop.<br>Backstory: <br>Micheal Summers was born native Maryland. He lived in a small town of La Plata growing, and for the majority of his life was spent there. Good at a majority things one thing mainly, fixing things. All through school he played football, and wrestled so he was always kept in shape for a fight. Though his life wasn't the greatest it had it's worst times. When Micheal was graduating high school the day before his graduation his mother was murdered. They say she was attacked by a pack of wild dogs, but that was never really confirmed in Micheal's eyes. They wouldn't allow him or his father to see the body. After the graduation the funeral came, and after that Micheal split from Maryland. He got a scholarship to a collage in Maine. He spent a while in collage and made plenty of friends, and still his main trait was fixing things. He even fixed a relationship too. <br><br>Though the good times come back they go again as well. The head lines after homecoming night read a group of college bludgeoned to death, and drained of their blood. Micheal didn't know a single student, but the chain continued. He had witnessed loss twice in his life, and still it had done nothing to effect him.&nbsp; He was becoming colder to those around him because he knew he would be losing someone again. Left and right people were dieing, and Micheal got the idea to get out of college. He found his way through Maine trying out different spots, but nothing caught his interest. He didn't really have much to go for, so it wouldn't take much to make him stay. Finding his way in to Cape Merrin Micheal liked the atmosphere. Despite the depressing feeling Micheal felt at home. He spent much time working out, and after hours at Simons Bull. Another late night and an early morning Micheal found himself drunk and wandering the streets after leaving the bar. He made his way towards the park. He had no real reason for being there, but he was just going there. Not even aware of his surroundings Micheal had no idea he was being followed. Making his way to the fountain Micheal felt a push to his side, and rolled over not even sure what happened. Attacked by something, but not being harmed. As he woke up he held his head, and awoke back at the bar. A man had saved his life and kept Micheal unscathed. The following days the man introduced Micheal in to the world of the supernatural. <br><br>Micheal of course didn't believe at first, but stuck around to see proof. The man shown him the ropes to killing the supernatural, and how to survive. Though it was a lot to take in Micheal stuck it out, and became a hunter. A killer of the supernatural. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Heads Will Roll Primer: Characters Sheets, Plot Summary, City Layout</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aurora Wayland</strong> on <strong>29-04-2011, 19:53:05</strong>
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				(http://www.itusozluk.com/img.php/c1c7384414299cddf873cee0a321f43026848/emily%2Bbrowning) <br><br>Name: Samantha "Sam"<br><br>Character Type: Monster<br><br>Appearance: Long black hair, pale blue eyes and pale skin. Shes lithe, standing only 5'0 and weighing 90lbs. Her breasts are small and she wears provocative clothing to blend in with the hookers. <br><br>Sex:Female<br><br>Sexual Preferences: None - As of yet.<br>&nbsp;<br>Skills: Drawing. Shes always been a skilled artist since she was young. Sam also excels in history. Since her 'turning' she had spent numerous nights at the library, learning what she could in attempt to break her curse. Samantha also knows quite a bit about the human anatomy. Knowing just where to strike an opponent in combat. <br><br>Occupation: Prostitute.<br><br>Backstory: Samantha was a typical sixteen year old girl She had friends, family and a career in mind. She was smart and attractive. At the time she was dating a boy named Billy Kaid. He was a bit of a bad boy, and her parents hated him. But to Samantha he was everything she wanted. <br><br>Their relationship started out innocent enough. Talking and holding hands. But as the months went on, Billy became more aggressive, groping her and forcing their relationship to move quickly. Many times Billy attempted to force Samantha into having sex with him, and each time she said no. <br><br>One night as Samantha was leaving her part time job at the Gap at the mall, Billy pulled up in his car. "Get in..." He had said, voice slightly slurred. <br><br>"Billy, your drunk..." Samantha had replied, walking away from his car. <br><br>"Baby, come on. get in. I just want to apologize for last night..." He cried out, his car idling next to her. <br><br>Samantha knew it would be a mistake getting in the car, but she loved Billy and the desire to make him happy was strong. The girl sighed and stopped, turning around and climbing into the passenger seat. "We can talk on the way to my house." Samantha said. <br><br>Billy sped away in his car. Of course it wasn't to her house. Instead he has driven 20 minutes past the mall and turned down a dark alley. "Billy, take me home!" Samantha had demanded, looking around. her heart rate was fast and blood pumped into her ear with nervousness. <br><br>"Fuck you! Ain't I good to you? Buy you dinners and take you to movies!? Huh?" He growled, grabbing a fistful of Sam's black hair and yanking it back. With his other hand he produced a knife, holding it to her throat. <br><br>Sam's eyes went wide, struggling to get away as she screamed for help. "Billy! your drunk! Don't do this!" <br><br>Sam's boyfriend spat in her face and pressed the bladed edge tighter to the skin. "Shut the fuck up! I'm tired of paying and YOU not putting out!" he hissed into his ear, then licked it. What happened next was a blur. Billy raped her ruthlessly and Sam could only thrash and scream.&nbsp; <br><br>As Billy climaxed, he realized he couldn't let her go. She would surely call the cops and tell her parents. So instead he gripped the handle to his knife and jabbed it up into Samantha's ribs. Blood flowing and collecting on the bottom of the car. <br><br>Samantha's eyes grew wide, then distant as the world seemed to be fading from her. Of course it didn't end there for her. Instead she managed to see the car roof be torn open, and a man, who's face she could not make out grab Billy by the throat and yank him out. <br><br>What followed next were screams from Billy as the stranger brutally mutilated the corpse. Samantha was growing tired, her eyes drifting close when the Stranger's hand opened the door and pulled the girl out. She couldn't make him out clearly. He was tall. Dark. and his voice had an accent to it. <br><br>"Sweet child...I am Azrael..." he said, his voice like honey to her. "Do you want to die to night?" He asked, towering over her as she looked on from the ground. <br><br>"N-no..." She manged to choke, blood trickling out of her mouth. <br><br>"Then drink...and know it is not your time..." The stranger's voice whispered as he knelt down beside her. To Samantha, the world went black. <br><br>She awoke hours later, laying on the cold wet ground. She was naked from the waste down, blood between her legs from where the rape had occurred. She struggled up looking around and then screamed when she saw bits and parts of Billy on the driver's side of the car. <br><br>Samantha panicked, grabbing her clothes and hastily putting them on before running home, sobbing. When she got home, she managed to sneak in through her bedroom window, not wanting her parents to see. <br><br>Within minutes she was in the shower, scrubbing excessively to get the blood off her skin. <em>This has to be a nightmare...a nightmare...<em>, Samantha thought. The poor girl was so thirsty and no matter how much she would drink the the shower's faucet, she couldn't seem to quench the thirst. <br><br>Samantha left the shower and dried herself off. She collapsed on the bed, exhausted. Soon sleep over took her. As she slumbered her dreams were vivid. In them she had left her room, and visited her parents. It was there that she slaughter them and drank their blood. Samantha wanted to scream, but couldn't. The drinking of the warm red liquid was orgasmic and she felt as if her body was on fire with pleasure. <br><br>Screaming, Samantha woke up in her bed. She ran a shaky hand through her hair when she noticed it was smeared in blood. The dream was real, she had murdered her parents. Heart broken and truly alone, Samantha left that night. <br><br>For the next 5 years she spent on the street. She had taken refuge with the hookers near Simon's Bull. She had not aged a day since she was cursed by the Stranger known as Azrael. Mostly feeding on the perverts that tried picking her up, Samantha managed to survive, being careful to not give away what she was.<br></em></em>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Heads Will Roll Primer: Characters Sheets, Plot Summary, City Layout</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Reia</strong> on <strong>29-04-2011, 20:55:29</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i444/reia-elliquiy/Character%20Profiles/spacer.gif)(http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i444/reia-elliquiy/Character%20Profiles/Diane/diane_01.png)(http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i444/reia-elliquiy/Character%20Profiles/Diane/diane_02.png)(http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i444/reia-elliquiy/Character%20Profiles/Diane/diane_03.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Diane Elkin<br><strong>Character Type:</strong> Indoctrinated<br><strong>Age:</strong> 26<br><strong>Gender:</strong> Female<br><strong>Sexual Preferences:</strong> Pansexual with a kinky side - she's very dominant in the bedroom.<br><br><strong>Physical Description and/or image:</strong> Diane is of average height at just over 5 feet 4 inches. Her hair is never longer than mid-back length and never shorter than just below her shoulders. For the past few years she's been dying it a deep reddish-brown using henna as a way to keep her ties to her family severed. The color of her eyes seems to change, from an odd pale-green with darker green rings around the edges to a light green-blue. She's naturally pale and doesn't tan at all - when she does stay out in the sun for long she turns a nice, bright red. Her figure is toned and lithe, and while she may seem small, she's strong and able to stand her ground against people or things much bigger than her. Her clothes are casual and convenient - jeans and a t-shirt/tank are her staples, along with an old bomber jacket (http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i444/reia-elliquiy/Character%20Profiles/Diane/jacket.png) she found at a flea market a few years ago; she's never worn a dress in her life and sees them as extremely impractical. At first glance she seems like the average all-American college girl.<br><br><strong>Skills:</strong> Diane has a strong set of skills thanks to her upbringing, but while she's good at what she does, it all has a rough quality to it and no real finesse.<br><ul class="bbc_list"><li><em>picking locks</em> - learned this from her brother at a young age and quickly surpassed him in skill</li><li><em>knives</em> - pretty adept at using knives of all kinds to defend herself and always has a dagger or two strapped on her somewhere</li><li><em>shotguns</em> - when it comes to guns, these are her specialty, especially sawed-offs</li><li><em>self-defense</em> - this skill was drilled into her by her father from the moment he felt her old enough to learn</li></ul><br><strong>Weakness:</strong> Her family is her greatest weakness - she senses they're in trouble and she loses all rationality. She's also extremely freaked out by cockroaches and she hates the smell of corpses (enough to where if exposed to it for too long, she'll get physically sick).<br><br><strong>Occupation:</strong> Diane mostly hustles pool to get money. On occasion, if she's going to stay in one place long enough, she'll work as a waitress/bartender at a local bar. If things are really tight, she'll pick-pocket. Whatever money she gets she uses to keep her bike fueled and for cheap motel rooms when she needs a good place to sleep.<br><br><strong>Backstory:</strong>&nbsp; The Elkins come from a family of hunters. Diane's father had even boasted once that they had ties to the infamous Samuel Colt. Growing up, Diane had a strange childhood. She wasn't like most other kids and she never attended regular school. From as far back as she can remember, hunting had been the number one priority in her education. Her mother, while not a hunter herself, was supportive of her family and home schooled her kids. While she doesn't exactly love the life she lives, she knows nothing else and wouldn't actually want to be a "normal" person. Diane has a brother (Jason) and a sister (Amy), both older than her. They were trained by their father, being taught everything under the sun that they needed to know in order to go after the supernatural.<br><br>Regardless of her unconventional upbringing, Diane had a good life. Due to the work they did, her family was extremely close-knit and also had some close family friends amongst other hunters. They had their home base in central Texas, on an old ranch that had been in their family for generations. When a strange or unusual "something" cropped up, they'd travel to the city to check it out and take out whatever it was. Being the youngest, though, Diane was left home with her mother quite a bit. She didn't resent it, not to much at least, because her father would always tell her that someone needed to stay home to watch Mom.<br><br>When Diane turned 18, Jason and Amy took her for her first solo-hunt - a simple ghost haunting one state away. With only a few scrapes and bruises to show afterwards, she was delighted at her success and more than ready to tell her dad everything. When the three siblings arrived home late one night, about a week later, they realized something was wrong - as the red warning light wired to the top of the house was lit. Scared and clinging to Amy, Diane followed her brother and sister into the house, a knife held in her shaking hand.<br><br>The house was empty and completely quiet, all electronics off and no light coming in from outside. They inspected every bit of the house they could and found nothing. Which worried them even more. Upon declaring the house clean, Jason led his sisters outside to check the barn. That's where they found their parents. There wasn't much left to them, just measly shells of the people they had been. They were still alive, even though just barely, but non-responsive. Terrified, the three siblings quickly gathered up their parents and took them to the nearest hospital.<br><br>Their mother and father lived, but never truly regained full sanity. They could recognize their kids and talk about when they were younger, but that was it. Jason, furious at what had been done to his family, practically tore the house and barn apart in his search for answers. It was during one of his rampaging sprees that they found the message scribbled on the roof of the living room. Scratched into the plaster and speckled with bits of sulphur and black dust, were the words: <em>We'll get you.</em><br><br>After that, Amy decided it would be best if they split up - to hopefully distract whatever was after them if it had three trails to follow. There was an long and intense argument, but eventually they all agreed. They also agreed of a way of letting each other know that they are okay. Every two weeks they each send in a classified ad to several newspapers around the country with a coded message.<br><br>Since splitting from her brother and sister, Diana has been traveling all over the country on her dad's old motorcycle (http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i444/reia-elliquiy/Character%20Profiles/Diane/bike.png). She hunts daily and takes down what she can, occasionally accepting help from others when she knows it'll be a tough job. While it was hard at the beginning - as most of the seasoned hunters wanted nothing to do with a small 18 year old girl - she's managed to make a name for herself. She's made mistakes and has the scars to prove it, but she's not afraid of shooting first and asking questions later. When it comes to gathering information, she's a bit impatient and relies mostly on her own knowledge and the tattered notebook she jots things down in. However, she does work well with others and is more than happy to let someone else take the brunt of a job if it means her assured survival.<br><br>For the past few years Diane has been trying to find out what got to her parents and if there's any way to stop it. So far she hasn't found much more than myths and lore. But she's determined to get revenge and kill the thing so her family can be together again.<br><br>When we meet Diane she's in search of her sister as it's been over two months since last hearing from her and Cape Merrin is the place of Amy's last known whereabouts.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Heads Will Roll Primer: Characters Sheets, Plot Summary, City Layout</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>abandoneddolly</strong> on <strong>29-04-2011, 22:29:52</strong>
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				&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;Name:Alice&nbsp; Sheapored <br>&nbsp;Character Type: Indoctrinated<br><br>&nbsp;Physical Description and/or image:<br>http://fav.me/d16sew3 (http://fav.me/d16sew3) <br>Alice stands only at 5 foot, and has a skinny build.&nbsp; She tends to wear casual clothing usually thrown together as if she didn't care what she looked like. She has brown eyes and medium length brown hair. <br>Sex:Female <br>&nbsp;Sexual Preferences: heterosexual.<br>&nbsp;Skills: 1) interrogating. Alice was a journalist and held many interviews with high profile people. She knows just what questions to ask, and what just to say.<br>2)Hand to hand-&nbsp; Alice has been going to self defense school since he encounter with the supernatural and has learned a little about fighting with her hands<br>3) Writting- Alice has been writting for a living for a long time. <br>Backstory: Alice is 25. She had a child at the age of 20, but had not had that much time to spend with him. Being a singel mom she spent a lot of her time persuing her career goals as a journalist and writer trying to keep her kid living in comfort and giving him anything he could want. That was why she was so excited when she got a week vacation to go camping with her son. It was her chance to get reconnected with her kid.At first things were going good. She spent her days swimming and playing with her son. <br><br>Then one night in their tent Alice was awaken to a chilling howling noise. She sat up and saw shadows pacing outside her tent. She pulled her sleeping son into her lap, and watched as the shadows drew closer and the howls grew louder. She was a bit scared, but was certain that whatever beast it was could not get into the tent. That was where she was wrong. With a loud rip something dog like broke his way into the tent, and bite into her child's leg. She tried to keep a good hold on her son, and screamed and yelled at the dog to scare it away. The dog thing ripped her son out of her hands and ran off with his body. Alice ran after him, but lost the dog thing. <br><br>She called the cops, but no one believed her story.&nbsp; There was a search party, but her son was never found. They said that he must have got up in the middle of the night and took a swim, and the river pushed his body off somewhere. Alice began to believe that story, and the dog thing she saw must have just been a nightmare. She spent a lot of time and money on a councilor trying to make herself be live that lie. <br>She has buried herself even deeper into her job, and convinced herself there is no such thing as monsters.&nbsp; Though in the back of her mind there is a lot of doubt. The monster in her nightmare she cc an remember just as clearly today. She can never look at anything the same again. <br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Heads Will Roll Primer: Characters Sheets, Plot Summary, City Layout</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Starlequin</strong> on <strong>30-04-2011, 00:15:55</strong>
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				***<br><strong>Name:</strong> Reginald Barker<br><strong>Character Type:</strong> Initiate<br><strong>Appearance:</strong>(http://i307.photobucket.com/albums/nn301/robsanderson001/Jason%20Whitfield/JasonWhitfield14-1.jpg)<br><strong>Age:</strong> 19<br><strong>Sex:</strong> Male<br><strong>Sexual Preferences:</strong> Bisexual<br><br><strong>Skills:</strong> <br>Contacts -- Reginald may not be great shakes at much, but he's got <em>a lot</em> of friends on the internet, and some of them really know their shit. If something weird's going down, he can usually get in touch with someone more in the know and get some 411 PDQ.<br><br>Danger Sense -- Reginald has an extremely well-honed sense of impending danger, mostly thanks to an abusive home life and plenty of practice avoiding the usual school bullies. As a result, he's not exactly Lionheart, but he makes up for it by knowing how to rabbit with the best of them. If there's a hiding spot or a quick exit anywhere nearby, it's a sure bet Reginald can find it, and in a hurry.<br><br><em>Book of Sorrows</em> -- During one of his weekly library crawls, Reginald discovered this book tucked away in the Suspense and Horror Fiction sections he usually haunted, almost as though it were left there just for him. He'd never seen it before, and when he showed it to the librarian on duty, the old woman informed him there was no such book in their files and told him to stop wasting her time. Reg took the book home and began rifling through it, and discovered it was filled with arcane spells and incantations. At first, Reginald wrote it off as some hokey old hoax and shelved it with his comics and back-issues of <span class="bbc_u">Phantasmagoria</span>. But every night since he discovered it, he's felt a strange tingle in the back of his head, as though that book is calling out to him. As if it wants him to read it...<br><br><strong>Occupation:</strong> Reggy scored a part-time job as an usher / concession-stand worker at Cobb's Theater, often as the only member of a skeleton crew. The pay sucks, but it's&nbsp; enough to at least let him pretend to a little self-sufficiency, and it keeps him out of the house.<br><br><strong>Backstory:</strong> Reginald was born in Cape Merrin, and according to his mother it's where he'll die. After an unremarkable grade- and high school career, Reggy tried to move out and escape her domineering control, but luck (fate, destiny, whatever the hell you'd wanna call it) just wasn't on his side. Every job he tried fell through, his first apartment was flooded when his upstairs neighbors busted their water main, and his second turned out to be under seige by militaristic rodents. In the end, he was forced to call it quits and move back home, much to his despair. <br><br>When he was younger, Reginald had a great relationship with his father. A good man, Sebastian Barker was, kind and patient, and little Reginald thought he hung the moon. The darkest day of Reggy's life was the day they laid him in the ground, a cold and rainy September morning when he was only seven. That was also the day he realized he lived with a genuine, honest-to-God monster. His mother never missed an opportunity to harangue him, and she used every weapon in her considerable arsenal. Oh, she never laid a hand on him, though; her methods were much crueler, and left far worse scars. Every day she offered her son a new lesson on how pathetic, how worthless, how insignificant he was, and ever night she reminded him how much she wished he'd never been born.<br><br>That he even made it <em>to</em> puberty, much less through it, was a miracle. Reginald eventually realized his imagination was his only real escape, that the only place he would ever be safe was his own mind, and he lost himself in books, in movies, in journaling. When he was fifteen he discovered the internet, a wonderous place filled with like-minded people who really listened to what he had to say. Through a few chat and email acquaintances he discovered sites that dealt with the bizarre, the unexplained, and the occult, and he's been fascinated ever since. Even though he's a bit of a skeptic at heart, Reginald truly wants to believe, but how can he? Nothing cool or interesting ever happens in Cape Merrin...
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Heads Will Roll Primer: Characters Sheets, Plot Summary, City Layout</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>30-04-2011, 03:36:19</strong>
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				<strong>Name:</strong> Cori J. Michaels<br><strong>Age:</strong> 26<br><strong>Character Type:</strong> Initiate/Human -Detective, Ignorant of the Supernatural Community.<br><strong>Physical Description and/or image:</strong> Cori (http://i307.photobucket.com/albums/nn313/NovemberWerewolf/Female%20Characters/Snow_BOUnd.jpg) stands at an unimpressive 5'7, with lean muscles and a curvy frame that might be called elegant, if it wasn't constantly garbed in jeans and bomber jackets. Her hair is more auburn than red, with thick waves that turn into tight curls once wet. Her eyes are a dark green, which seem to shift and change with the woman's moods. Bright like springs grass when elated and pleased, but foreboding hunter once the woman's anger starts to settle in. Her smiles sit crookedly on her full lips, and she's a natural with a pistol on her hand and dirt smeared on her cheeks. She's certainly not your typical tom-boy, and she's far from the princess she wanted to be when she was a child, but through that rough exterior, she's still a woman who wonders if she has her own Romeo out there somewhere.<br><strong>Sex:</strong> Female<br><strong>Sexual Preferences:</strong> Curious. Her sex life is currently on hiatus due to the stresses of her job and the growing distrust she has with people. She's wary about any form of commitment.<br><strong>Skills:</strong><br><span class="bbc_u"><em>*Hand-to-Hand--</em></span> Through Cori's training with the US Army, she's trained in a variety of skills in hand-to-hand combat, including disarming her opponents, and quickly bringing them to the ground. With much buried aggression, she's been described as 'beautiful but brutal' while sparring with others. Cori is stronger on defense than she is on offense, which suits her just fine.<br><span class="bbc_u"><em>*Luck--</em></span> Looking at her past, one wouldn't call Cori lucky; but her keen sense of intuition seems to be rather acute, giving her a step above the others when it comes to survival. Whether its that prickling sensation that tickles the back of her neck when danger is around, or being able to 'smell' a lie, as her partner likes to claim, its very difficult to let things slip by her.<br><span class="bbc_u"><em>*Parkour--</em></span> Instead of drinking, or taking to other acts of self-abuse to make up for the events of her live, Cori prefers the more gratifying sensation of a hard workout. Parkour was a game when she was growing up, yet far more useful now than she had ever imagined. This has only developed over the years, and comes in handy when chasing down a felony or person of interest for her cases. That hidden elegance seems to show best when the woman is in action, and those long, lean muscles in her frame become quite handy when you need endurance over brute strength.<br><br><strong>Backstory:</strong> Daddy wanted a boy; and found himself instead with a beautiful little girl. It could be said that Cori Michaels was a mixed blessing from the start. Her presence in the world gave Cori’s mother someone to talk to and confide in, adding a little lace to the heavy masculinity of her home. Yet, Cori’s father, Police Chief Donald M. Michaels of the Santa Barbara precinct, had the old-world beliefs that a woman’s place was in the kitchen; and not bringing home the proverbial bacon.<br><br>Growing up was difficult for her, but not horrible. Cori’s relationship was strongest with her mother, while her father was a figure who sat at the dinner table and occasionally spoke up about an arrest in the neighborhood or to give a foreboding warning to watch out for the Masterson boys. Through Cori’s mother, she harbored the wants and desires of a romantic, the princess who wanted to be swept off of her feet and carried away in an extravagant parade of flower petals and forest critters. When Cori turned thirteen, romantic thoughts of Fairy Tales died with her mother, who was found raped and brutally murdered in their Santa Barbara home. The only evidence that turned up was large animal tracks around the front windows of the bedroom, and a tuff of dark hair that belonged to some canine.<br><br>Donald picked up the bottle to drown his sorrows, finding himself in a world he didn’t know how to live in; with no woman able to take care of him, and with the daughter he never wanted. For a couple of months, Cori tried to return structure by picking up the duties of the mother she had lost, but found her father disinterested in the meals made or in Cori at all. She took care of herself, did well in school, and knew that the moment she was able to leave, that was the route she was going to take. Donald took his life when she was sixteen, by wedging his toes into the trigger of his most prized shot-gun while sucking the barrel.<br><br>From there, Cori lived with foster parents, moving from home to home until she was eighteen. With no money for school she joined the Army the day she graduated from high school, and knew that if she didn’t find any structure in her life, statistically she wouldn’t last long before following the fates of her parents. It was that little girl’s ever present need to please her father that she joined as an MP, and began to get involved with MCU and homicide. Cori went to the middle east on tour for a year, working on war-crimes, and was rewarded with the purple heart after being injured in the line of duty in Iraq; after 4 weeks in a hospital in Germany, she returned to the sand and finished the rest of her tour.<br><br>Cori had a natural talent for picking up details; and a unique point of view that allowed her to ask the right sort of questions. The war and army life, however, reminded her too much of her old home at times, and so when her contract was up, Cori looked for work in the civilian world. Cape Merrin was far enough away from her California that she felt refreshed, almost new, and was all too happy to dig her heels into the soil and find new roots.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Heads Will Roll Primer: Characters Sheets, Plot Summary, City Layout</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MistressofPen</strong> on <strong>02-05-2011, 05:43:52</strong>
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				(http://i1133.photobucket.com/albums/m592/MistressofPen/Alison1.jpg)<br>Name:&nbsp; Allison “Al” Garvey<br><br>Character Type:&nbsp; Indoctrinated<br><br>Physical Description: 28 years old, pretty, 5’9”, long dark hair, pale blue eyes, pierced left eyebrow, tattoo of the eye of horus on her shoulder blade-a piece visible when she wears her usual uniform of wife beater tank and jeans.<br><br>Sexual Preference:&nbsp; Hetero and vanilla experience so far.<br><br>Skills<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Daring:&nbsp; Has been known to try anything at least once.&nbsp; Not fearless, just not controlled by fear.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Planner:&nbsp; Can see the end from the start and able to see pitfalls before they happen.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Running:&nbsp; She’s fast.&nbsp; Went to college on a track scholarship; got a liberal arts degree which earned her a job as a research assistant for a professor.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Research:&nbsp; She knows how to find out things.&nbsp; If she hits a dead end, she usually finds another way to her goal.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Hard-headed:&nbsp; This is a good trait in that she isn’t a follower just because; people would have to convince her their way was better than hers.&nbsp; This is a bad trait because she might argue about the color of the sky if she took a dislike to someone.<br><br><br>Cape Merrin, fucking Maine, Allison thought, standing beside her steaming car.&nbsp; A light had lit on the dash a few hours before, but she’d stuck a piece of gum over the light and turned up the stereo in case anything made noise because she wasn’t stopping.&nbsp; Well, until she had to. Even now, after 8 hours of driving, she felt she hadn’t gone far enough.<br><br>It had been the middle of the night when her mother’s drunken boyfriend had come home to knock her mother around some.&nbsp; It was a weekly occurrence.&nbsp; Allison had listened for a few minutes as the sounds escalated before grabbing her baseball bat and charging down the hall.&nbsp; Her mother was watching Ghost Hunters on TV; she loved all of that paranormal, Syfy crap.&nbsp; <br><br>Now, the sonofabitch was losing it, holding her mother to the couch by her hair and ---&nbsp; Allison stepped back, bat raised.&nbsp; She couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.<br><br>“Get off her, asshole,” Allison said.<br><br>The man looked up, his eyes gone black from lid to lid and blood coating his lips.<br><br>Allison stared.<br><br>He licked his lips and it almost looked like he smiled.&nbsp; Allison swung for the moon, the bat connecting with his head and knocking him back.<br><br>Her eyes took in her mother’s ravaged neck and she felt like she might pass out.&nbsp; The blood oozed.&nbsp; If her heart was beating, Allison knew the blood should shoot across the room from the carotid artery if not the jugular.&nbsp; She had to look away. If she passed out, she knew she’d be dead, too.<br><br>Too.<br><br>Allison turned and ran for the back door.&nbsp; She got there a split second before what had been her mother’s boyfriend caught up, moving with odd-sounding steps after Al.&nbsp; A glance back and she feinted to the side; avoiding being impaled by his claws at the last second, feeling the wind caused by his movement pass her face.&nbsp; Allison turned and ran into the dining room and towards the front door, knocking chairs and tables over in her wake.&nbsp; The front door was unlocked and she jerked herself around it and out.<br><br>He grunted and growled as he chased her.&nbsp; There were thumps as he fell, not moving too well for some reason.&nbsp; He hit the door, catching Allison’s hand in it.<br><br>Allison screamed, but stuck the bat in the door to lever it open and pull free.&nbsp; She ran to the end of the porch, leaped over the rail, screaming to wake the dead, and wrenched open the door of her old VW bug.&nbsp; The bug was on its last legs and had to be pop started, so was always parked facing the street at the top of the drive.&nbsp; Allison released the brake, pushed it a few steps, then paused, wondering why he didn’t follow her.&nbsp; <br><br>Curiosity was killing her...&nbsp; She slammed the brake on and ran to the window by the drive.&nbsp; He was skewered, leaning against the front door.&nbsp; He hadn’t intentionally caught her hand in the door.&nbsp; It appeared a broken picture frame or chair had pierced him.&nbsp; He wasn’t dead, he was just immobile.<br><br>His eyes slid towards the window.<br><br>It was enough for Allison.&nbsp; She ran back to her car and got the hell away.<br><br>She was heading for Canada, maybe a ship somewhere...somewhere safe.&nbsp; <br><br>Allison hated that she ran, that she left her mother.&nbsp; She wanted to go back and find out what had happened, to finish Gerry off...if that was Gerry.&nbsp; What was he?&nbsp; She felt shaky as words popped into her head from those stupid games her friends had all played in high school.&nbsp; Vampire.&nbsp; Nosferatu.&nbsp; Allison had never believed.&nbsp; All those stories of Count Dracula were from some sick bastard who liked to put people on stakes and drink their blood to scare his enemies.&nbsp; And, with rapists and child molesters and serial murderers, why did we need other monsters? She wondered, wrapping her arms around herself, shivering.&nbsp; She looked at her VW and sighed, shivering in the pre-dawn chill.<br><br>That was five years ago.&nbsp; Al had settled in Cape Merrin by necessity; no money and no transportation.&nbsp; She took a job at a local pub, putting her liberal arts degree to good use pulling beers and fending off the advances of the drunks.&nbsp; Now that she knew, now that she’d had a slap in the face from reality, she kept watch and saw things that made her stomach roil.&nbsp; Someone should do something, she thought—never thinking she was that someone.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Heads Will Roll Primer: Characters Sheets, Plot Summary, City Layout</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Roo</strong> on <strong>02-05-2011, 05:53:34</strong>
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				&nbsp;<strong><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Name: </span></strong><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Otis Treehaute</span><br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;<strong><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Character Type:</span></strong><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"> Indoctrinated</span><br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;<strong><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Physical Description and/or image:</span></strong> <span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Otis is a large man, tall and well-muscled. His age is indeterminate, but he’s somewhere over 30, and probably not in his 60s yet. He has a long, uneven scar that runs nearly the length of the right side of his face, and his right eye is blind. His hair is long and oily. He sometimes wears it back in a pony tail, which makes his scraggly goatee all the more prominent.</span><div align="center">(http://th05.deviantart.net/fs71/PRE/i/2011/048/c/f/__evil___by_helvi_chan-d39rct1.jpg)<br></div><strong><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Sex: </span></strong><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Male</span><br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;<strong><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Sexual Preferences: </span></strong><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Women, Vanilla Sex, though mostly Otis is celibate these days.</span><br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;<strong><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Skills: </span></strong><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Otis is proficient with a double barreled shotgun and his career working for construction companies as a demolitionist has left him with a reasonable working knowledge of mainly explosives and a strong ability for how to plant charges in order to bring down buildings. Otis is also a bit of a gourmand; he loves to cook, and if he can arrange to have someone tolerate his company for very long, he will inevitably cook a delicious meal for his guest. Otis is an excellent chess player.</span><br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;<strong><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Backstory:</span></strong><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"> Otis has worked in construction for decades, and specifically, he has always been part of a demolitions team. His life was typical, happy. He was a working stiff and his wife, Patty, stayed at home to watch their daughter and son—Margaret and Jason. Life was good; he loved his wife and children, and his pay was more than enough to keep them living comfortably though not richly. He went to church with his family on Sundays, and the Treehautes were generally considered good Christians by most of their fellow churchgoers. This might have to do with the annual barbeque that Otis helped prepare every year for the church, or it might have been his recipe book that was put together for the community and sold as part of a church fundraiser. </span><br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">All of this changed when Otis came home late from work one night. He and his crew had brought down a doozy of a building and the guys had all blown off steam together as a way of releasing the tension about the building’s fall. He’d come home not quite drunk, but definitely a bit more than tipsy. His buddy Carl had dropped him off; Patty would be annoyed the family truck was parked in the parking lot of Simon’s Bull. She did chide him for drinking sometimes, but she should understand, or at least that was what Otis told himself as he crossed the threshold into his house. In the stark yellow kitchen light of their home, Otis saw crimson. Blood pooled on the floor, sprayed the normally cheerful walls with its red stickiness. Otis said nothing intelligible, but made a horrid keening noise in the back of his throat as he ran for the kitchen. He slipped in the blood and landed painfully on the kitchen floor on his back. He jolted his head on the linoleum so that he was disoriented when he turned to look at the pile on the floor next to him. It took him a moment to realize what it was: Patty, Patty strewn with her own guts and more or less torn apart. He turned and retched but struggled to keep the vomit down and dashed up the stairs with bile coating his throat. He left his bloody footprints on the carpeted stairs. The lights were off up here, but Otis was insane with rage and fear. He stumbled through the dark to the children’s room, calling out the whole way, his voice ragged with emotion, “Margaret! Jason! You answer your pa, hear! Margaret! Jason!”</span><br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">He burst through their door in the darkness. He could see something hunkering down on one of the children’s beds. There was the smell of wet dog, piss, feces. He hit the light switch and immediately wished he hadn’t. The thing perched on his daughter’s bed was—he didn’t know—something between dog and human, but there was nothing human at all in its features. Its mouth was a cavernous maw filled with ragged, yellowed teeth; it held up one of his daughter’s eyes, popped it into its mouth and swallowed. Glaring its bloodshot eyes at Otis it opened its mouth and laughed a low, husky laugh that shook its form before it mouthed two words Otis had to fumble with mentally in order to understand because of the thing's contorted speech: “Sweet meat!” As Otis stood there puzzling it out the thing stepped off the bed and began moving toward him—Otis raced back down the hall toward his bedroom where he knew he kept the shotgun loaded in their closet. But he didn’t even get to turn around. Instead, the thing buried its festering claws in his left shoulder and spun him around. Screaming, Otis unloaded both shots at the thing seconds after it batted his face with its large, clawed paw. They both fell backward, the thing yelping; Otis was more badly injured and laid on the floor slipping toward shock while the thing got up and crept away, licking its wounds.</span><br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">He laid there for about twenty minutes before the police arrived; he had thought, once he got better, that he had lived in a neighborhood where gunshots would have brought the police much sooner. So much for his pride in raising a family in a good neighborhood—but then none of that mattered anymore to Otis because he had no family anymore. All that mattered now was revenge—all that mattered now was bleeding the fucking dog that stole his family.<br><br></span><br><hr><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">After Otis's family was murdered he was fired from his long term position with Allen and Jenson Construction based on the initial rumors that circulated about the murders: he had come home drunk, slaughtered his family and defaced the corpses. Forensic evidence eventually cleared Otis of these accusations, but the damage had been done socially and emotionally. Isolated from most of his former friends at St Thomas, the church that had been so much a part of his family life, Otis took the life insurance settlements he received--bitter fruit--and moved out to the edge of town. He bought a small 5 acre farm and used the remainder of the money to buy up livestock and seed. He has a garden that sustains his fresh fruits and vegetables needs for the most part, and he tends his animals and </span><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">works odd jobs on other farms for income now. <br><br>He has converted the basement of his large farmhouse to a weapons storage facility. There he prepares his own bullets so the casings are not wasted, stores his firearms, some of which are illegal, and his chemicals needed for explosives.<br><br>He often stays on the farm unless he is out hunting or drinking at Simon's Bull.<br></span>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Heads Will Roll Primer: Characters Sheets, Plot Summary, City Layout</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mhina</strong> on <strong>02-05-2011, 07:06:36</strong>
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				Character sheet. Still minus a picture. I swear, eveyone else is so much better at finding this stuff than I am.<br><br>Name: Abigail Diederich<br><br>Character Type: Indoctrinated<br><br>Physical description: (working on finding a picture) Abigail is on the short side, standing 5’5 and thin to the point of sometimes appearing frail. She has messy black hair, falling to her shoulders and dark brown eyes. She has the appearance of not sleeping much, with rings under her eyes and a pale complexion. She has no distinguishing characteristics other than a gouge taken out of the arch of her left ear. She appears younger than she is by a few years due to her small size.<br><br>Age: 24<br><br>Sex: Female<br><br>Sexual preference: Male, though it has been a long time since her last sexual encounter and she hasn’t put much thought into her own sex or that of others for quite some time.<br><br>Skills: Abigail has spent years training herself in the use of a handgun, which she claims is the new instrument of divine retribution. When necessary and when she can clamp down on her natural persecutory tone she is a skilled and convincing orator, though this is somewhat offset by her disheveled appearance. She has also developed some skill with knives and metal working, stealing silver from holy sites in order to infuse her bullets with more divine power, though this effect may just be in her head.<br><br>Personality: Abigail has become difficult to get along with, touchy and suspicious of everyone around her. Her overzealous behavior and lack of focus or a stable mental state make her somewhat unreliable although she usually tries to follow through with her promises when she makes them. She is genuinely kind when talking to other members of her faith, but it takes a long time for her to trust those she sees as outsiders.<br><br>Back story: Abigail grew up in a very religious house, hearing stories about the monsters that awaited little girls who didn’t obey their parents and properly recite their verses. Her mother was harsh but never cruel, hoping to give Abigail an example of a strong, devote, and faithful woman to model herself on. In large part she succeeded but as much as Abigail loved her mother she idolized her father, who served as a minister at one of the city’s largest and most well attended churches. Growing up she would spend hours watching him rehearse his sermons, and for years she never missed a single one. As she got older she began to follow in his footsteps, trying to find a way to become as devoted a member of the church as her father. <br><br>By the time she was in her teens almost all her spare time was devoted to volunteer work at the church, and she could be found there more often than at home. By this point of course her mother, proud of her daughter’s faith and acknowledging that at a certain point a girl was simply too old to be scared by stories of demons and monsters, had stopped telling them to Abigail. Some small part of Abigail always remembered those stories though, and she always kept them in the back of her mind. As she got older, she began to believe that there were monsters watching her and her family from the shadows and from behind the faces of the unfaithful.<br><br>When she was finally old enough to leave home her relationship with her parents had turned somewhat tense. She and her father got into frequent arguments over the scripture and his method of preaching. He maintained that universal acceptance was the solution to the world’s problems, while Abigail, growing increasingly fearful, maintained that the unfaithful were to be avoided at all costs. She believed that a lack of faith merely meant a place for evil to be harbored. She thought that he should be advocating harsher methods and that ultimately it would be an “us versus them” scenario.<br><br>Tensions might have continued to rise had it not been for the events leading up to her nineteenth birthday, her first year away from home. She had returned to the house she grew up in that night, expecting a warm welcome and a temporary ceasefire in regards to the disagreements she had with her parents, but had walked into a dark house that stank of sulfur and burning flesh. Abigail tore through the house in a panic desperate to find her parents. All of the things she had feared since her childhood ran through her head, all her fears and warnings seemed confirmed in a single instant as stumbled into the basement, finding the bodies of her parents covered in horrific burns, chunks of their flesh torn from their bodies and the festering wounds sizzling and popping as they corroded. Abigail fled the house then, running to the church where she shut herself up in her father’s wardrobe, sobbing into his vestments. She stayed there for days before thirst drove her out.<br><br>It would be a year before she found out that it had indeed been a monster that had killed her parents. During that year what had been left of her sanity had slowly begun to slip away, leaving her with nothing to fill her head with but the teachings of her faith. She vowed to hunt down the beasts that had done this, and any others she could find, in the name of the Almighty. She took up residence in the church until she was thrown out and now spends her time hiding out in any church or holy place she can lie or break her way into. She wears her father’s cossack and collar, proclaiming herself his rightful heir and passer of judgement on all creatures of evil.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Heads Will Roll Primer: Characters Sheets, Plot Summary, City Layout</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Esoteric Myobi</strong> on <strong>12-05-2011, 03:53:12</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_277mkR54rQM/SKg1U9tzcVI/AAAAAAAAC8M/xBrd9xqJYlQ/s400/fan+bing+bing.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Fate Turner<br><strong>Character Type:</strong> Initiate<br><strong>Sex:</strong> Female<br><strong>Sexual Preferences:</strong> Bisexual<br><br><strong>Physical Description:</strong> 23 years old, stands at 5' 5" when barefoot though she has a tendency to wear short to high heels. With pale, porcelain skin, she burns and tans easily. Light gray eyes, though some have mentioned to her that they seem to change colors under different lighting. She keeps her hair in a short bob and is usually seen with a pair of headsets on.<br><br><strong>Skills:</strong> <br><br><span class="bbc_u"><em>Charismatic Persuasion</em></span>: People find themselves attracted to Fate, though none seem exactly sure as to why. Some claim they look up to her out of admiration, others just find themselves repeatedly coming back to find her -- whether it be for advice, or just the comfort of being near her. Just as people may find Fate's company to be irresistable, they have a difficult time saying 'No' to her...especially if she really <em>really</em> wants them to say 'Yes'. Stubbornly persistent by nature, she'll use any means to get what she wants, whether it be consistently needling a person for information, to the use of sensual allure and possibly even violence, this girl just doesn't do well with rejection.<br><br><span class="bbc_u"><em>Connections</em></span>: Her high school and college days may not have been spent with the most reputable group of people, but she'd kept in touch and made sure her lines were both open and friendly. She keeps herself well-informed of the latest news and rarely needs to call in any favors, though when needed, they're always happy to help. From school friends who have now moved on to various careers, to people who frequent the shadier parts of town, Fate's usually only a few phone calls away from finding out the latest gossips to knowing who deals the purest drugs.<br><br><span class="bbc_u"><em>Street Fighter</em></span>: Fate tends to avoid fighting if she's able to, but when it's needed, she can hold her own for a short while...though she never plays fair. Whether it be kicking up dust into someone's eyes, or crushing some poor guy's babymaker, Fate'll kick and scratch like a wildcat. She's decent with bashing in faces with her fists and knows her way around a butterfly knife, but she's careful to pick and choose her fights and isn't afraid of turning tail and running away when necessary.<br><br><strong>Backstory:</strong> <br><br>Born and bred in Cape Merrin, Maine, Fate Turner's always hated the little town life ever since she realized that everyone knew everyone else's business. <br><br>Raised by her doting father, she was ridiculed by others in school for her lack of a mother figure. Not that she was the only one without a mom, but because it was rumored that her mother had been some pretty lil' slut who'd taken advantage of her dad's kindness -- only to turn tail and run once she'd given birth to Fate. <br><br>When the bullying first started, she'd run home crying, confused about the truth of the rumors only to be stunned into a hurt silence when her father didn't even deny them. Eventually, tired of the snide remarks and pitying looks, Fate just snapped sometime in middle school and returned home bruised and scratched up but with a satisfied smile on her face. From then on, she decided that if she really were supposedly so 'bad' then she'd be the baddest girl around town.<br><br>Her father never batted an eye at her sudden change in behavior, he never said a thing about her decisions and this only seemed to irritate her further. One time, over a rare breakfast with her dad, she casually asked his thoughts on having such a rambunctious daughter.<br><br>"Honey, I'll never tell you how to live your life. You're a smart kid with a good head on your shoulders and I believe that you'll make smart decisions. Only thing I'll ever ask of you is to do well in school and continue your education."<br><br>That was the last time they ever breached the topic and conversations grew sparse between them. <br><br>However, Fate kept her end of their bargain and did well in school despite her reckless endeavors. With the start of college, Fate applied to schools in the next state and lived in the dorms. Her whirlwind life suddenly came to a stop one day when she received a call from her dad's best friend, Mike, telling her to come back home. "Your dad passed away last night." Those were the only words she heard. She was still holding her phone to her ear long after the line had clicked off.<br><br>He'd always looked much older than the rest of the parents, but her dad wasn't even fifty yet. Returning back home to Cape Merrin, Fate watched numbly as her father's casket was lowered into the ground. It wasn't until everyone had left that she sat on the freshly dug earth and started crying for the first time in years.<br><br>Now, Fate's moved back to Cape Merrin and is finishing up her Bachelor degree at the Cape Merrin Community College. She's a part-time student and spends most of her time looking after Book Revue, the little used book store that her dad owned. Mike drops in regularly to check up on her and occasionally he looks after the store for her. Those who remember Fate and her rowdier days may be surprised at how she's 'settled down'. While no longer frequenting the shady parts of town, the girl still knows how to have a good time and enjoy herself. Although she's no longer 'a part of the gang', she's still on friendly terms with old buddies and never turns down an invitation for a drink.
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