The Devil's Trap [o/a]

[Charlie Steel]

Just a small side note: I'm a little picky about whom I welcome into my threads. Although this was meant to be a one-on-one, we wanted to keep it open to new characters. If you wish to join, please PM the below skeleton to me and I'll take a look.

The Devil's Trap
A city cut off from the rest of the world, who's name was buried with the rest of the history, there. The city has just about everything you could imagine. Many years before, a mishap with the dimensional portals caused the city to constantly morph, meaning you could take a step and end up a mile away. Some dimensional portals still exist, though it's risky to use them.

The city's strongest point is its technological advances. One of the most popular creations is the drug called 'Morph'. This drug allows people to change their appearance for 15 minutes, though it's hard to find and often requires a good sense of anatomy, lest someone forget a lung or vital artery. Although Morph was originally created to replace plastic surgery, it's great for healing wounds.


Rules
We'd prefer somewhat detailed posts and we expect that you use quotations, italics, and punctuation properly.
Grammar and spelling are a plus, but mistakes happen.
No god-moding. God-moding on someone gives them the right to god-mode right back.
No 'perfect' characters. This should be rare, as all profiles must be approved before posting is allowed.
Please don't post without having an accepted profile.
Please don't bump.
Respect is a great thing.
I may add more as time goes~

Some Extra Profile Information
Focus: Magic / Technology / Science / Combat
Magic: ability to perform feats with one of the below elements
Technology: highly skilled with anything technological // physics, electronics, mechanics, etc
Science: highly skilled with various science aspects // chemistry, biology, medicinal, etc
Combat: ]extremely well practiced in the arts of combat

Element:
Air: winds, still air, wingless flight // creation and control
Water: ice, water // control only
Fire: flame, heat // creation and control
Earth: dirt, soil, metal, wood, etc // control only
Illusion: mind imagery // creation only
Blood: blood within own veins // creation and control
Spirit: prophecy, healing // control only
Demonology: summon a single demonic familiar // creation and control


Moral Affinity:
You may pick any of the below. This defines what kind of character you play and where his/her heart really lies.

Lawful Good || Lawful Neutral || Lawful Evil
------------------------------------------
Neutral Good || ----Neutral---- || Neutral Evil
------------------------------------------
Chaotic Good || Chaotic Neutral || Chaotic Evil​

Name: Charlie Mychal Steel, formerly known as "the Angel of Death".

Sexual Preference: Believed to be homosexual.

Moral Affinity: Neutral, possibly even neutral good.

Race: Angel.

Focus: Magic.

Element: Air.

Personality: Though Charlie was once a cold, dark-hearted man, something changed, within him, causing him to turn and warp both his appearance and within. Nowadays, he seems lost in thought, most times, and often remains taciturn and keeps to himself, avoiding most contact when at all possible. However, parts of his past still haunt him, meaning he still finds himself wandering into social hubs (like bars) to feel the pull of the souls around him.

Background: Before the 'Big Sleep', Charlie believes he was a very romantic and sweet man. He made sure that whomever he was with, he treated with the utmost respect and took the time to get to know the individual. He was wondrous at remembering things, keeping track of everyone's birthdays, their likes and dislikes, and especially the things that they were good at and enjoyed. He was a scholar, back then, reading up on anything and everything he could get his hands on--medical books, novels, the writing of English critics--because the world fascinated him. He couldn't remember where he had come from, only that he was somewhere new and exciting.

It was all thanks to an acquaintance's few choice words that he snapped and broke apart, becoming part of his old self and dropping what he thought was the Big Sleep. This stranger had denied him his ideals of himself, his theories. He explained to him, briefly, the truth, and that stuck with him, haunting him until it ripped him apart. After his melt down, he released the souls he'd stolen and his wings were returned to him. Knowing the way Wake City worked, he had no choice but to remove his wings. Covered in blood and feathers, he'd traveled out to find the much sought-after Morph.

Nowadays, Charlie spends his time people watching. He sits in front of shops, bars, or even on roof tops, and watches the people play out their lives before him. When he was a monster, he'd find one soul a week that he found particularly interesting. He'd follow them home, lurking in the shadows, studying their every move, noting their every word, devising a plan for himself. A plan for their end. But he's not like that, anymore. He still thinks about his past, every now and then, but he doesn't feel the same about those situations as he used to. When he watches people now, he does it merely out of healthy envy and admiration.

Hobbies: Of course, Charlie enjoys watching people, but he also keeps his old habits of reading and studying, keeping himself updated in the medical field as an old habit. He spends a lot of time in social hubs and roaming the streets. He'd taken up an interest in a wider range of music and animals, finding both relaxing and reminiscent of the ancient legends. He'd taken up writing poetry and short stories, having torn the pages from his old Soul Book that contained the ruined lives he'd taken.

Likes: Charlie enjoys things mechanical and technological. He likes things that make him think and wonder. He is particularly interested with the workings of magic. He enjoys classical music--that from the ancient times--as well as the feeling of velvet and silk, the visual textures of wood and iron, and cool colors, including black. He likes romanticism and often fantasizes about it, believing that he'd never get the change to enjoy another touch (as he now understands was probably never true) like those he'd watch from time to time. He likes the taste of fine whiskey and flavorless cigarettes. He enjoys the pain he causes himself, in whatever form he chooses it to take.

Dislikes: Charlie envies the lives of most others. He doesn't like to wait, or talk about his past. Women frighten him (as he's seen from the outside how they work emotionally) and men make him nervous. He dislikes himself, most of all, and what he once was. Whenever he thinks of his past, he often punishes himself.

Strengths: Charlie does not give up easily. He is very level-headed, always trying to view things from different perspectives. He's very good at understanding the ways of others and his memory is incredible. He has trained himself to see well in the dark and his ears are attuned to the sound of a pin dropping in a crowded hall. His sense of touch is astounding, as well. Because of these things, he has learned to become very stealthy on his feet. He is very agile and flexible. He is a masochist, making him enjoy the pain he receives, and meaning that he's much less likely to give into tortures of most kinds.

Weaknesses: Charlie is stubborn. He refuses to admit that he is wrong and he doesn't know when to give up. Although he is wonderful at seeing other people through their eyes, he has trouble looking in on himself. He has a terrible sense of smell and can barely taste anything, aside from the bitterness of whiskey. He's become somewhat emotional, letting his heart lead him instead of his logic. He is a masochist, making him enjoy the pain he receives, and meaning that he's much less likely to realize just how wounded he is.

Specialties:
Human Anatomy: with his extensive research into the workings of the human body, his anatomy skills are top notch. He knows all of the 'sweet spots', though he hardly ever uses them.
Beastial Empathy: he considers his former self a beast, so much so that he's able to connect with beings of a similar mindset on a personal level. For example, he's able to nearly understand a viscous animal's needs and wants as if he were speaking directly to him, which allows him to befriend such beasts with near ease.

Weapon of Choice: Although Charlie still keeps his scythe in storage as a reminder of what he once was, he will no longer so much as lie a finger on it. Now, he carries with him a simple silver dagger for minor protection purposes.

Appearance: Charlie's eyes are dark silver and often express a deep sadness. His hair is black and shaggy, never shaped. He wears a black hoodie over a t-shirt of the day's chosen color and a pair of worn blue-jeans. He covers his feet with red and white sneakers. Shorter than he used to be--due to the Morph--he's also a bit less muscular. He appears to be approximately twenty-one in age, though he acts more like seventeen or eighteen. It's hard to find him without a cigarette in his mouth or a drink in his hand, or without a smile on his face. When he does part his lips, his teeth are surprisingly straight and white. Over his body are many deep scars, some somewhat fresh wounds. He doesn't care if anyone else sees them.

Height: 5 feet 11 inches.

Weight: About 145lbs.

Current Inventory:
Apartment Key. [x1]
Silver Dagger. [x1]
Pack of Cigarettes. [x2]
Book of Matches. [x3]
Lighter. [x1]

Mood Music: The Graduate's Sit and Sink or Nine Inch Nail's Happiness in Slavery.

Charlie's Old Profile.
Charlie's Rabbit Hole.[/size]

Name: Sicilia "Rose" Rosehoffen

Sexual Preference: Bisexual (However she only expresses her love of women in private)

Moral Affinity: Neautral Evil

Race: Half-Elf

Focus: Combat

Element: Fire

Personality: She has a strong-willed and agressive personality, always wanting to be at the head of anything important. This typically puts her in danger from friend and foe alike.

Background: She was a normal survivor, living day to day, one ruined building to another, fighting off the other scavengers, human and beast...and sometimes demon alike. She loves the taste of good wine, ever on the lookout for wine cellars and cabnets. When she finds a good bottle, she keeps it and gradually drinks it over her tavels. When she stumbled across villages of survivors, she would trade what she had for her pencils and papers.

Hobbies: She likes to drawl and sometimes paint when the mood takes her. She hasn't been able to paint alot since everything went down the crap drain, but she has scavenged around and usually finds pencils, papers, and if she is lucky, paints and paintbrushes. When she is at a safe camp, andfree, she usally pulls out her pencils from her backpack and draws, making incredable designs in little time.

Likes: Likes to draw and paint, loving the relaxed feeling that flows through her bdy when she is in this blissful state. She loves company, after traveling for herself for endless days and nights, she loves to have someone to talk to.

Dislikes: She dreads being alone, never knowing when if someone would find her dead or alive. SHe hates it when people mess with her drawings or pantings, feeling like they will destroy her one calming outlet.

Strengths: She is strong from hefting her axe all over the place and practising with it regularly. She is strong-willed and used to living by her own rules, never letting small things wear her down.

Weaknesses: Her drawlings are her weakness, if anything were to happen to her lifes work...she would turn insane and kill everything around her. She keeps these on her person at all times unless they would be ruined by were she was going or what she was doing. She can't handle ranged enemies for the most part, her axe being her prefered way to kill.

Specialties:
ArtistShe is able to make near exact portrits of people she hasn't met by just the descriptions that people give.
Melee FavoredShe loves to get stuck in close combat, tearing through her enemies with great sweeps of her axe, chopping enemies to pieces, litterly. This however is also a weakness, as she detests ranged weapons and spits upon their usage, considering them ignoble.

Weapon of Choice: She usually prefers an axe when she has to fight. Any axe will do to quench her need for the heavy weapon but she distinctly prefers axes with two blades.

Appearance: With long black hair down to her middle back, usually tied into a ponytail, this pale skinned 19 year old was of a desent build. With a red bandana around her mouth to keep dust out, black leather knee-high boots, black leather gloves, patchworked leather pants, and a leather vest, she was an intimidating sight. Her eyes were different colors due to her crossed breeding, one was a bright, dazzling sapphire, the other a soft, hypnotic lavender. She often had her axe resting over her shoulder and her bag's staff across her chest.

Height: 5"9"

Weight: 129 lbs

Current Inventory:
Fire Axe. [x1]
Notebook. [x2]
Pencils. [x10]
Handbag. [x1]
Lighter. [x1]
Canned Food. [x4]

 

[Blood_Rogue]

Crunching her way through an abandoned appartment complex, on the search for anything useful, Sicilia aka "Rose" by her friends, sighed and sat on one of the beds. Leaning back on the palms of her hands and looking up at the half-collapsed ceiling. "That's the tenth room I have searched today...looks like the scavengers have already blown through." Grits her teeth at the mentions of the bandits, feeling the bullet-burn along her leg. She had been ambushed not two nights ago, three men had tried to join her by her campfire, and after letting them come close enough, they had pulled weapons, a tire iron, a crowbar, and one of the bastards had scavenged a pistol from somewhere and shot at her. She had lived, they had not. A dog eat dog world was what the still sane enough people of the town believed in. You could never truely know what will happen, the portals turned people insane by their nature. Walking home could turn into falling down a cliff...truely insane. However, there where a few places in the city where you could only be lightly affected, sitting to the right and then you are sitting to the left. Looking down at her scavenged clothing, black leather boots, vest, clothes, a patchwork pair of pants, and a red bandana. She looked like a bandit shure enough, bringing a slight smirk onto her pale mouth. Picking up her satchel, she started to work her way through the remaining fifty rooms, using her fire axe to chop her way through sections were falling wood or plaster had blocked her path.

After her long days work of scavenging, she sat down contently at her makeshift camp, a linen tent, a small fire, and a couple crates that held her supplies. On the dirt floor infront of her was: a couple silver forks, spoons, two steel kitchen knives, several batteries, a lighter, a box of matches, a bible, a couple cans of food, and a deck of cards. Grinning hugely, she picked up the cards and looked through them. "Finally a way to keep myself entertained for alil while...no pencils or papers through...shame." Puts the cards down and places her spoils in one of the crates, pulling the top over it to keep what's inside safe. Leaning back against one oft he smal boulders that was strewn across her campsite, she watched the fire and thought of happier, simpler times, her axe across her lap.

 

[Charlie Steel]

A thud and an 'oof' sounded a few meters from the campsite. It would seem that a man had fallen a fair distance, perhaps having walked across a line as it shifted. He grunted and groaned, rolling onto his back and rubbing his head. He had terrible luck with such things, though refused to ever save himself with flight--not only was he masochistic, but his promise to himself denied him safety of such sorts. His promise made him nearly human. He sighed and carefully sat up, moving his legs to check for breaks. Lucky for him, the fall had only dislocated his left shoulder. He clenched his teeth and, with a sharp force of his right hand, shoved his shoulder back into place, cringing tightly with the pain that accompanied. He breathed deep, then cracked a few joints before standing and taking a somewhat confused look around. He spotted the camp and scratched his head, then slowly stepped toward it, unsure of whom might be residing there. As he stepped lightly around a boulder, his tennis shoes quietly crunching the grass below them, he stopped at the sight of the woman and immediately brought his hands up in surrender.

"Uh, hi, there. Didn't mean to intrude," he spoke quickly, hoping she wouldn't turn that axe on him. He took a step backward to give distance, feeling far too close to her for comfort. The man was one to avoid conflict, and he would do so at most any cost.