SKIT'S CHARACTERS.

[Skit]

this is my winter song to you ,
character basics

NAME: kona noelle
NICKNAMES: none
GENDER: female
AGE: nineteen
BIRTHDAY: july 31st
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: heterosexual
STATUS: kill for hire

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the storm is coming soon ,
character appearance

EYE COLOR: ice blue
HAIR COLOR: black
HEIGHT: 5'4"
WEIGHT: 106
DISTINGUISHING MARKS: though they would only be distinguishing if you saw them, kona's scars are rather remarkable. in addition, no one ever forgets her eyes.

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it rolls in from the sea ,
character appearance

SECRETS: hopeless romantic. kill for hire. murdered mother.
LOVES: fire. thunderstorms. photography. ocean. night. moon. stars. dancing. vintage.. sleep. dancing in her room. rooftops. beaches. singing in the shower. piggy back rides. diamonds. black balloons. scary movies. silly faces. magic. chocolate covered strawberries. pillow fights.
HATES: brother. father. arrogance. liars. nostalgia. being called short. physical affection. crying. wet towels. being cold. rules. the smell of rouge. large crowds.
GREATEST STRENGTH: physical strenght
GREATEST WEAKNESS: eyesight
DISORDERS: none
PERSONALITY: coming soon!

my voice a beacon in the night ,
character appearance

HOMETOWN: nags head, north carolina
MAJOR HOSPITILAZIONS: despite needing medical attention,
kona is never taken to see any professionals.
CRIMINAL RECORDS: none, thanks to "daddy" dearest.
FAMILY:
landon cress, father, 48.
skyler cress, mother, deceased.
joshua cress, brother, deceased.
"daddy", boss, 38.
FRIENDS: coming soon!
SOCIAL CLASS: lawbreaker
IN DEPTH HISTORY: born, abused by father,
murdered mother, sexually abused by brother, melanie,
melanie murdered, brother's suicide,
ran away, lived alone, mild gang involment, "daddy"

my words will be your light ,

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character appearance[/font][/right][/blockquote]

SOCIETY: reaper, though she desperately wants to be a part of the resistance.
MOTIVATION: "daddy" has a very tight leash around her neck. he holds the key to her one desire: the murder of her father. furthermore, he's incredibly abusive. she has only ever tried to run away once, and it ended with her nearly going blind.
MEMBERSHIP: "daddy" an incredibly wealthy businessman is a part of the reaper society, and he has offered kona to them as their pawn as an extension through his services. since he joined, she has, for the first time, begun to question her role in life. she hates all that has happen recently, and she wants to join the resistance. she's only heard of them once, but she's clinging to that hope.
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[Skit]

███ RIDER

Current Muse: Little Things of Venom by Arid.

Full name: Rider.

Age: Unknown.

Gender: Male.

Social Class: Nomadic as he is, he belongs with the upper crust. He's no favorite among the blue blood society, as if he even existed in their eyes. He tends to wander, in search for something. Like the wind, like the breath carrying a whisper in the winter's air, he's something rare.

Relationships: As far as he is concerned, none.

APPEARANCE ███

He is, as his luck would have it, short. There is no way to get around it, he stands at only 5'11". Though, that certainly doesn't make him seem any more inviting. He's incredibly toned and muscular, but still lean. His hair is a shade dark than the darkest black, and has plenty of volume. It is fairly long coming to the nape of his neck, with the addition of bangs that shape his sharp jawline. Unlike popular culture would have it, his bangs are a fair deal longer than the rest of his hair. The boy is also naturally rather pale

The unfortunate thing is, if not his height already, the rest of his features are not as natural. His irises are a stark white, a hue that seems almost another color all in itself. Encircling his irises are a black curve that are challenged only by the darkness of his pupils. Though, the most strikingly, unnatural, and bizarre feature he sports are his ears. Perhaps this explains were his bangs are kept so long and his hood is always propped against his head? For the luckless boy, has had his ears surgically altered. His nerves rewired so that atop his head are fully functioning, and large, fox ears. Yes, pushing through his ink black locks are two equally, unnaturally black fox ears. No, he does not have the classic humanistic ears either.

███ PERSONALITY

He has the potential to be someone. If he had enough heart, he could be a hero. He's indifferent and apathetic when it comes to life. He's vacant of all recognizably human emotions. Though, given the life he's been dealt, it's really no surprise.


As expected, he's incredibly introverted. He sees no point in getting to know others, and he doesn't talk about himself, so he has very little to say. Somber and serious, he often dozes off. If in one minute he is in a discussion, the next he his gazing out of the windows with his brows furrowed and an intense air about him. He often leaves others with chills crawling across their spines. Something seems very off, very, very wrong. He holds such a deep intensity in his atmosphere that he seems to come with his own warning label. He doesn't usually take things lightly, and he can become very violent.

Though, all of the angst and mystery can be quite irresistible. For some reason far beyond his imagination, the ladies find him oh-so-sexy. His smothering, bad-boy aura leaves the good girls feeling awfully bad. He really wish it didn't. He's incredibly uncomfortable with intimacy and, though it's a secret, blushes easily. Careful, girls. This boy really is bad. There are pieces of himself that even he fears.

He wasn't always though. He was actually once an outgoing, rebellious, reckless, little prankster. He was lustful and always longed for the ladies who tempted him. He can still be quite naughty and sassy if liquored up.

And if (mind you, this is a rather large if), he shows you his true colors, you'll find he's even more enigmatic than you could have ever imagined.

OTHER/HISTORY/EXTRA ███

warning, rider's history is graphic in nature. if you do not wish to read this, then scroll down until the BOLDED sentence.

To be honest, Rider is not his name. Tattooed in brilliant calligraphy around his wrist are the numbers 74337, which correspond to "R-I-D-E-R".

December, the clouds dripping down, he awoke to the smell of blood and rust. The sounds of a distant train called for him. Snowflakes rested on his lashes and the cool feel of the tracks on his cheeks were lulling him back to sleep. Despite the pain and nausea, he propped himself up. After those moments, he could remember only pain and the ever thickening scent of blood.

As his eyes peeled apart, he recalled a florescent light. He much preferred the darkness the night had offered him. He attempted to sit up, but he found himself bound. He could feel a vibration in his appendages. His muscles wanting to stretch out in a panic, but his body to weak to move. He didn't know it then, but this was a straight jacket. He could remember the light reflecting in the doctor's glasses. They spoke to him, but he was unresponsive. That was until they began performing the lobectomy. He could remember the hammer, the nail, and the unholy noises he made. Much like a ghost haunting the memory, he could remember the sound of his skull cracking.

When he awoke, several days later, he was bound and muzzled. His eyes rolled about attempting to make sense of it all. He must have been in that room for days. He drifted in and out of consciousness. Every time awaking to see something slightly different than before. New IVs, some new metal contraption binding him in some new way, and occasionally a new sound. He could hear voices, but he was alone. He was the only living thing in that room. It was a pale, medicinal room. Floor, ceiling and walls were white tile. There was a day where he tried to count them.

After perhaps a month, he was unbound. Though, the muzzle, hand cuffs, and leg bindings remained. He wasn't sure why. Again, they asked him things. He ignored them as he always would. It was late January and the air was charged. He counting how many colors his bruises contained when he remembered hearing a little girl. Curious, he tripped his way to the door and peered out. He watched at first, unsure what to do given the situation. Her skin detached from her muscles so cleanly, and yet, she was alive. That was perhaps the first time he thought to himself "what is this place". He could taste the bile that was now sloshing to and through in his muzzle as he made his first attempt to escape.

The vomit was warm and frothy, he couldn't remember what it was like to eat. It may have been the first time he knew that one could eat, but none of that matter. The chains made it difficult to run, but he was afraid. Afraid as he ran, and most certainly afraid when he was caught. He wasn't so complacent this time 'round. He struggled, but he was still so very small.

With time, he learned more. He was in a mental ward, an asylum, for the insane. He was kept because he showed potential. Others were discarded and what could be salvaged from them was. He graduated to a cot one day, or night, he could never tell when one or the other ended. There were no windows. He remembered the bed smelt of someone's bowls, but he pressed his face deep into the cot. It was a disgusting bag of vomit and feces, but he was protective of his little cot.

Of them all, he had enough raw, humanistic instincts to survive. Some prehistoric drive of self preservation pushed him onward. It was that same drive that eventually brought him back to the December air.

His enclosure was highly secured. Bond by a straight jacked, two thick titanium plates pined him against the titanium backboard. His head was covered with a heavy metallic substance. He could not see, and moving his head was incredibly difficult. His head binding was so heavy, that as he threw his head with all his force against the titanium blinders he began to break his chest and waist bindings. He wrestled his way free of his straight jacket. He waited as the alarms grew louder. He shot at his temple several times until the helmet shattered. He left a trail of blood behind him, but he was the first to escape.

The rest is to be learned on a person by person basis.

Now, on to a few, fun, fine details.

Rider likes: foxes, apples and jam, silent movies, flour, winter, simple, the night sky, rain, clouds, black.

Rider dislikes: spices, loud noises, bright colors, large public gatherings, physical affection, being disturbed, pink, candies, extravagance.

Rider facts:his sense of taste, hearing, and sight have all been enhanced. he has amenisa and no sense of taste, thus the memory-loss and addictive nature of rouge do not affect him.