Nature always needs a balance, a yin and yang. Day has night. Winter has summer. Good has bad. Just like the light has dark, when the casters were created, there was a light side and a dark side. And, to every spell they cast, there was a consequence. The Light Casters were the conscience of the Dark, constantly mindful of what price had to be paid, what scale it would be paid, and how to make the damage a bit less taxing; Any caster would never know exactly what the price was, but the experienced ones would know how to lead the price toward something more manageable. Everything sent out was received times three.

But...the Dark Casters grew tiresome of the Light. It took effort, untold sacrifices and practice...until the day finally came that they performed a spell that shattered life as everyone knew it: They took out the Light Casters. This alone wouldn't have been a detriment to those oblivious to what existed. However, the price that had to be paid...was one no one anticipated. As the last Light Caster died...so did the sun. This forced everyone to move underground as temperatures dropped to catastrophic levels; the closer to the core, the better. And, because they held power, the Dark Casters were now the ruling class, picking and choosing who they helped for a price all their own.

Nature finds a way, though. The universe always finds a way.

Despite all odds, some years later (fifty years later, to be exact)...a light caster was born. The roleplay will be centered around a group who learn of this new Light Caster’s existence. Do they keep it safe? Do they turn it in? What happens then, and how is order restored (if it's restored)?

This group does not have to be solely dark casters, or humans. They don’t even have to be allied in any way, shape or form, but they’ll be connected by this one bit of information; They’ll have witnessed this “blasphemy” in some way, confirming what some have knowledge of, namely the Dark Casters. For those humans who’d not witnessed a Light Caster in person before, all they’d know is that they’re different. They may have heard stories passed down from relatives if those relatives were lucky enough to know of the existence, but the bulk wouldn’t know more than what a DC is capable of as they’re not so fond of being secretive.

For this roleplay, you can choose to be either race. The only one that is off limits is the Light Caster at the center of all the controversy.

Dark Casters are inherently dark in every way possible.

Due to the nature of their craft, they haven’t the slightest inclination to care when it comes to the suffering or pain of others. So long as the end result of the spell cast gets them what they desire, they’ll do whatever it takes and not feel any guilt toward the act after the fact. There are, of course, levels to this. Generally, the older they are, the more attuned with that dark side they’ve become while the younger ones can still cling to the notions of normal human society, no matter how diminished it is now.

Now, no caster in this world is biologically immortal. They would die like any normal person if they allowed themselves to. However...there is the ability to lengthen their life through one of two spells. One such spell sucks the life from one person, taking the years they’d have lived otherwise and taking it into themselves. This leaves a lifeless corpse in their stead, nearly mummified by the time the ritual is complete. The other is the ability to switch bodies, taking over the new host body while the other’s spirit would be forcibly ejected; More often than not, this one isn’t used as it’s more complicated and there are more factors to take in, but it has been used.

Dark Casters pray to Sarresephtis.

Light Casters are inherently good in every way. They serve(d) as the ever present conscience to the Dark Casters.

Due to the nature of their craft, they have every inclination to care when it comes to the suffering or pain of others. Seeing anything that violates the laws of nature, or takes the lives of the innocent physically pains them to watch. Some feel it so profoundly, have such a deep connection with nature, with the world and its inhabitants, that they don’t need to see the violation to feel it. And, unlike the Dark Casters, this resolve to uphold the natural order is felt strongly from the time of their birth, and heightened once they reach the age of eighteen when they’re claimed for the Light. From then on out, their connection with the Earth and its creatures is felt so profoundly that it’s not uncommon for they themselves to act as the price to be paid if it would spare another from the pain and suffering, knowing that the others would carry on in their stead.

Just like their counterparts, these, too, are not biologically immortal. The difference between them is that a Light Caster will not take the life of another to prolong their own. They are born, they live, and they die, to be reborn again at a later time while becoming one with their god, with the earth. It is the natural order of things and they refuse to go against that.

Because of their decimation fifty years earlier, it is a known thing that these people will not be tolerated, the Dark Casters going so far as to do sweeps and raids to make sure that everyone is as they claim, that no light is ever born in their realm. Some humans have even gone so far as to accuse others and throw them at the mercy of the court to get favor in their eyes and get treatment for their service; Even if these accusations prove false, there is always a need that the human can fulfill in some other way, shape or form.

Light Casters pray to one god, Evacskaldione.

With these casters, the bulk of it surrounds spells that require a verbal and gesture components in order for it to work. The more powerful the spell, the more prep-time that is needed to get the spell off successfully, and the bigger the overall cost. And, even with all of this prep-time, there can still be chances for this to fail; The stress is taxing on the mind and body, and makes it harder to properly focus and give all your attention to the cast in question. Those casters that are overly cocky in such a regard have been known to lose limbs for their carelessness.

For those acts that don’t require verbal components, they still require a gesture of some kind. It could be as simple as a flick of the wrist or as complex as Tai Chi; If you get the gesture wrong, the cast will not work. More often than not, this is what’s used in combat, working in similar fashion to the wizards of Harry Potter’s world, flicking their wands in such a fashion, though no word is ever said (the older and more practiced the caster). This is also used if someone were to attempt to break up a bigger cast, a ritual; Casters will set up blockades to slow the threat down and give them time to complete what’s needed.

Now, some casters are more adept at different aspects. That’s not to say everyone is specialized, but some choose to focus their talents, to better their time with delivery. Some choose to focus on specific rituals and things surrounding the human race as a whole, while others focus on things like conjuring amenities and defensive/offensive maneuvers.

There are two gods in this world that reign over all. Though the humans were oblivious to them and believed only in the usual religions and gods represented in their cultures. Now that the world order has shifted and another class has taken up rulership, their blissful ignorance is no longer tolerated. Where gods are concerned, each race, each country needs to pray to the one god they deem important.

Though they’ve never seen any true visage of their god, Sarresephtis, they follow him without fail. Their actions act as tribute, as sacrifice, fueling his existence. He is the God of Punishment, of the Dark. He’s responsible for the suffering of others, of self-gratification, chaos, discord and lies. He represents all that is bad in the world, and each criminal act against nature keeps him going.

On the other side of that, Evacskaldion is the God of the Light, the God of Mercy and the elder brother of Sarresephtis. When the Light Casters died, he became weaker. No Dark Caster told the people to pray to him, so he’s fallen into obscurity, in a near-powerless state of existence. In fact, Evacskaldion is currently living as a mortal, simply trying to survive. No one knows what he looks like and no human knows of his being. But, all it would take is one, one light caster to believe and follow in the footsteps of their ancestors to bring him back to full power and being.

The world’s occupants have fled beneath the surface, taking refuge in the ground, miles under, to keep safe from the frigid temperatures of the surface. As the sun died, there was little time to prepare, to adjust, many leaving everything they had and hiding out with naught but the clothes on their back and what food they could carry. Those who proved to be of use were allowed further down, closer to the warmth, while others...remained “out in the cold” at the top.

With this new world order, there is a new layout. Six layers have been carved into Earth’s crust. Where the crust varied in thickness, the bulk of the remaining population fled amid the various tunnels to the larger areas, areas where they felt safer.

On the outermost layer, it’s nearly barren. At most, they have lean-tos to live in in the most basic of tunnels, with whatever blankets they could scrounge up (and food scraps they could hoard away for later). This layer is mostly inhabited by those that are either on the outs--meaning the group is not ready to kill them--and those that have nothing to offer the casters as collateral for better treatment.

The next layer, Level Two, is only a step up from that. Still barren and nearly empty, they’re still mainly made up of straight tunnels, with a few carved out rooms for better stability. These rooms are still small, but they keep in what little heat they produce better, and afford them a real place to set up their life, rather than being at the mercy of those walking passed.

Level Three is the level where most of the industrial work is done. It’s the crossover point between the more inhabitable levels and the barely there. A system of rails are used for the carts, and wide tunnels allow for the plethora of trucks to move easily with the cargo they carry. What they specifically mine and work on are dependent on the region they’re under and what that area requires more.

Onto the next layer, Level Four, it’s more of a middle-class city. It has actual housing, power, and feels like a city, minus the sky. It’s cleaner than the levels before it, but still not as well put-together as the fifth.

Level Five is the creme de la creme when it comes to how one can live in this time. This is where the bulk of the amenities can be found, including Air Conditioning for those that were crazy enough to need it (while having the means of bargaining and being useful). Everything here is polished, clean, people employed from the upper levels to keep it such, with likenesses of the Serrasephtis throughout, including on the elevators that go down to the final level.

The Sixth Level is off limits to anyone who is not a caster, unless you’ve got a special use and they’re allowing you to enjoy the lap of luxury for a spell. This level is generally only inhabited by the higher up Dark Casters, so those of lower rank would only be called down if there was a meeting they were requested to attend.

This roleplay is designed to happen over multiple chapters, so nothing is going to be easy from the get-go. There is a gross imbalance between humans and Dark Casters, so don’t expect to have a human in an important position or standing.

Humans are lower than low. On the totem pole, they’re in the ground beneath it. In this world, they are used as slaves, servants, manual laborers. Anything of importance is left to the “superior race”. At this time, it is impossible for a human to be more than that, even if they’ve helped a Caster find traitors. That doesn’t mean they’d be bumped up in the world; It means they’d have less chance of dying and repeat “clientele”.

Things could change depending on how this roleplay goes, but it’s all up to the characters and their interaction. It will take time, and won’t happen overnight, but it can happen.

Each of the locations will be elaborated on in the post beneath this, to give you key points of interest, places that you’ll want to be around. Depending on where your character is from, those guides will be adjusted to fit your specific needs; The last thing I want you to have to do is write in the dark.

The timeline is modern times; The year 2014. This does take place on Earth, but with an Alternate Timeline.

Another thing to be mindful of: Character Interactions overall. Now, I’m not going to put a blanket “Every character has the chance to die” thing, because that would be a bit much when this roleplay only has so many characters that will be interacting. I can’t control whether or not a character wants to kill you; Solve it in character, rather than try to work it out out of character. That aside, I ask that you make it known whether or not you’re willing to have your character die (there is a place in your character application for it). If you are and your character should fall pray to the dark, then you will have the chance to make another character to join the fight, if you wish.

And, on the subject of fighting, there is only so many times I can justify you not dying. That being the case, if it’s coming down to an inability to justify it, I will talk to you and we will work something out.

On the topic of Character Applications, I don’t want everyone to be a Dark Caster, nor do I want everyone to be human. In a perfect world, there would be an even matching from both sides, or more humans to DCs. As stated in the interest check, you are required to submit one Dark Caster and one Human, unless you want to play a human. I will choose which character moves forward. Please state whether you are comfortable roleplaying two should I decide they are both a good fit, or if you'd prefer to keep it to one. There are further chapters planned, so remember that they'll have a chance to grow, that they aren't finite in their make up as they stand. Who knows? Perhaps in this first chapter, you’ll find a fondness for the character you wrote this go-around and won’t want to change when the next chapter starts.

I also don’t want all females or males. Please be mindful of this.

These characters can have origins from all over the world. As the world’s population has congregated beneath the Earth’s surface, you can expect that there would be different groups that have milled about, mixing and mingling, so get creative with their origins.

That aside, I’m asking for brand new characters. No character application put forth for this roleplay should be one you’ve used elsewhere. I want creativity, characters that are fully thought out and born of this world, not another so that it’s all organic, not repurposed and twisted to fit in here. If you need any help, please don’t hesitate to write me via PM or ask the question here on the OOC so that others who may have had the same question can see its answer; I’m happy to help with anything you may need or to act as a sounding board to figure what’s feasible and what’s not.

Also, please avoid anime likenesses for your character sheets.

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Sounds_Of_Silence's:

Eferhilda's:

Dadsky's:




Uratan's:

Eferhilda's:

TheOneAndOnlyTex's:

Leumas's:

Fain's:

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Basic Information;
Full Name: Zaavan Kestrel
Nicknames: Simply, ‘Z’
Age: 45, appears to be around 30
Birth Date: 08/12/1969
Sex: Male
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Species: Dark Caster
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Religion: Sarresephtis
Place of Birth: Level 2
Place of Residence: Level 4
Occupation: Oversees mining work.

Appearance;
Hair: Black
Eyes: Grey
Build: 5’10”, 170lbs, pretty solid.
Clothing&Style: Longer, sort of shaggy hair, and a beard. Usually wears the nicest clothes available to him, to establish his importance over humans and where he stands amongst the ranks of the Dark Casters. He won’t be caught dead in anything that isn’t considered ‘high class’ or ‘expensive’.

Zaavan is a very sharp-looking man. He has dark eyes and dark hair, and is fairly well built. Square shoulders, square jaw, and thin lips, and he always seems to have this angry or vexed look on his face. His skin is pale, which gives him an almost ghostly appearance, yet seems almost perfect. Save for the scar on the palm of his left hand that was most likely caused by his use of magic. Or abuse of magic, whichever works.

On the back of his left shoulder, there’s a tattoo of the marking of Sarresephtis.

Personality;
Likes: work, feeling important, luxury, organization, sleep, cleanliness
Dislikes: beggars, pretentiousness (in spite of being the very definition of the word himself), the fact that he works close to the filthy mines, growing old, ornery humans/people in general, disorganization, messy people
Strengths: not (always) easily fooled, focused, hard-working, organized, pretty quick on the draw, good with deadlines
Weaknesses: impatient, insensitive, apathetic towards things that don’t really concern him, vain
Habits: double checks everything
Quirks: Obsessive over organization and time management, paces while he thinks, always seems to keep moving, feels inclined to organize anything that seems disorganized even if it isn’t his business
Dreams: (to be determined as story progresses)
Fears: dying and growing old.

The first thing anyone would notice about Zaavan is that he always seems to be in a rush. .No matter what he’s doing, even if it’s just some leisurely stroll, he’s always moving at a fast pace. He’s very curt whenever he speaks. Usually, he’s not someone who likes to beat around the bush. You could say he has a bit of a complex in that regard, not really wanting to be bothered by anyone.

Zaavan is a very selfish man, as well as insensitive. He won’t be showing sympathy toward anyone any time soon. Choosing to stick to his own devices, nine times out of ten he won’t even acknowledge someone unless it directly affects him.

History;
Parents' Marriage Status: Widowed
Mother: Maria Kestrel
Father: Isaac Kestrel (deceased)
Sibling: He knows he has a half-sister, but doesn’t know her name.
Sibling: -----
Relevant Family Member: -----
Relevant Family Member: -----
Spouse/ Significant Other: (to be determined IC)
Children: -----

Level two. Horrible area for anyone to live, but it’s where Zaavan’s journey began. He was born to human parent. Naturally, he does not remember them well at all as he was taken away from them almost as soon as he was born. His parents had tried to hide the fact that they had a son. Not because they were aware he was a Caster at the time, but they were aware that sometimes babies were taken away from their parents and taken to the lower levels.

When they were found out, his father had tried to fight against them, refusing to give up his son. But he was powerless against the Dark Casters that had come for him. Before he or his wife could blink, his life was taken from him without a second thought. The pleading of the mother fell on deaf ears. Their only response consisted of derogatory words. And with those words, they left the weeping woman and went down to the lower levels.

While he was growing up, Zaavan was deemed unworthy to be amongst the higher ranks. He didn’t show as much potential. But, he was still a caster. They still had use for him, and so, by the time he was eighteen, he was working hard for them in hopes of becoming more important in their eyes.

He had taken his first life at the age of thirty. There was a dirty human scouring around, which he was not going to tolerate. When he approached them, he noticed that it was an older man. The sight of the wrinkled face and dull eyes had horrified him. Immediately, he had decided he was not going to end up like that. The man had sneered at him. Zaavan had returned the look, especially when the man decided to lash out in anger towards him. Zaavan had quickly conjured up a spell that sucked whatever remained from the man, and extended his own life.

Horrible right? As if the other Casters cared; it was one less rat on the streets.

Zaavan is not particularly happy with his life as of now, but he doesn’t mind it either. Maybe someday he’ll be placed a little higher on the pecking order as it were.

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Basic Information;
Full Name: Aziel (AZ-ee-el) Emmot Wilder
Nicknames: The humans call him “Walking Death”. Az to his “friends.”
Age: 32, though he does not look a day above 25
Birth Date: 07/31/1982
Sex: Male
Ethnicity: English/Cherokee
Species: Dark Caster
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Religion: Sarresephtis
Place of Birth: Level Five
Place of Residence: Level Five
Occupation: “Enforcer”- Basically he does what he wants to enforce the current social standing without any regard for the humans or their…feelings.


Appearance;
Hair: Dark brown and soft as fine silk.
Eyes: Blue-grey, often intense when angered, though full of amusement when being cruel.
Build:A lean muscular build of 160lbs with a proud height of 6’2.
Clothing&Style: Nothing but the finest of suits and materials touch his body. If anyone were to think for a moment to place something as crude as a polyester blend upon his body then they would surely suffer his wrath.

Az is a young man of fine tastes and exquisite fashion. Not only is he entitled to the finer things in life, he does make it a point to let everyone know this as well. From the suits he wears, to the expertly cut hair, everything about him screams expensive. The most “unkempt” feature would be the light scruff he allows to grow on his face. Even that is a strategic exercise that he does due to the fact he feels it adds some sense of danger or roughness to his overall appearance. He does not even begin to leave his home should one single thread or article of clothing is out of place. People must see him as the perfect being he knows himself to be.

Never is he caught slouching or in any kind of position of bad posture and yet manages to have this “relaxed” look and feel about him. Ever the confident man it shows in his eyes, the blue greys showing a mixture of amusement and confidence. When angered the eyes harden and the general relaxed feel is replaced by something far more rigid and stern.

Personality;
Likes:

-Pain: Not his own of course, but the pain of others. Be it physical, emotional or psychological pain. It does not matter as long as there is pain to be had.
-Suffering: Again not his own. He is cruel and loves to watch people suffer especially if it is at his own hand.
-Power: It is something he literally lives for. The power that comes from being a DC and holding the very lives of others in his hands, he loves it; Can’t get enough of it.
-Alcohol: Az enjoys the drink. Though nothing truly harsh and offensive, more like a finely aged wine more than anything else.
-Fashion: Not only is he up to date on the current fashion trends, but he also is one to set some fashion trends as well.

Dislikes:

-Compassion: To him the word does not even begin to exist. There is nothing about the word that he understands over even wants to begin to understand.
-Mercy: Another word and concept that he dislikes so strongly it is near to the point of hate. Mercy is for the weak, which is why it is not something he would ever be caught showing to anyone.
-Weakness: Though the humans amuse him and he enjoys their suffering, their overall weakness and weakness in general annoys him. It is within nature itself that only the strong should survive. The very fact that the humans have lasted this long is more of a joke than anything else. Nature will take its course and the humans shall be dealt with.
-Cowards: While he does not have any kind of notion in regards to honor, he does appreciate it when a man has the backbone to confront him to his face rather than behind his back.
-Humans: Yes, they are amusing monkeys, but overall he would feel the world would be a better place without them around to muck it up with their stupidness.

Strengths:

-Birthright: Being born to one of the legendary few who were part of the destruction of the Light Casters. His father’s very voice was used in the spell that snuffed out the sun. That being the case, he had experienced a privileged life affording him the best education that such power would allow.
-Power: Not only is he a Dark Caster, but he is one of some note and power. The gift is strong within him, whether due to his parentage or the use and practice of his gift.
-Fearless: He is an apex predator and he knows it. There is nothing that he fears, not even the wrath of his father or the other elders. This often leads to some reckless and dangerous behavior.
-Education: Tied into his birthright, Az is an educated man. Knowledgeable on many subjects, with even a few languages under his belt; anatomy has proven to be one of his favorite areas of study.

Weaknesses:

-Arrogance: Az does not think he is beneath anyone, in fact he feels that everyone else is beneath him. In his mind he is perfect and everyone should strive to be as good as him, though that is of course impossible.
-Vanity: His appearance is paramount to everything that makes Az, Az. So, he takes a huge amount of pride in this. Should his appearance not be perfect or marred in some fashion, then his state of mind would surely be hindered.
-Pride: It is his pride that will often get him into spats with others. Thus far he has managed to put his money where his mouth was, but that luck is sure to run out at some point in the future.

Habits:

-Condescending: His tone and vocabulary is heavily sarcastic in how he talks to everyone. He likely knows this, but chooses to not care.
-Coins: He always carries a stack of coins in his pockets, often playing with some by allowing one or two to roll down the length of his knuckles.

Quirks:

-Stillness: When on the verge of an outburst, he tends to become very still. Often those around him can feel the air begin to “crackle” with his gift
-Restless hands: This goes with the change that he always carries in his pocket. His hands seem to have to be occupied. If not with his stack of coins, then he often strokes his beard while in thought.

Dreams: There is only one thing that Az dreams for and that is more power.
Fears: On a subconscious level he fears losing everything and being no better than a human.

In a word, Az is an butthole. He cares nothing for anyone else and is only after his own amusement and pleasure. Being a Dark Caster, he is what many would call “evil”, and he does not care either. He loves what he is and he loves his life. Arrogant and cruel, he loves to watch the torment and suffering of others. It is his past time and he part takes in it regularly as he does not have an actual profession. Cocky, bold and fearless, his goal in life is to have more, to have everything there is to have.

History;
Parents' Marriage Status: Married
Mother: Ophelia Wilder-living
Father: Vincent Wilder- living
Sibling: Half-Brother-living-Whereabouts unknown
Sibling: Half-Sister-living-Whereabouts unknown
Relevant Family Member: None
Relevant Family Member: None
Spouse/ Significant Other: None
Children: None

Az was born on a day that would have been a total solar eclipse, had his father not been one of the chosen few to part take in the total extinction of a people, and the near total destruction of the world as we knew it. Born into a privileged life, Aziel never wanted for anything. At an early age his cruel side was evident, when his father found his nanny bound with a jump rope, gagged and with small cuts all over her body. The innocent like giggle as she cried in pain was music to his father’s ears, proud of his son and the pain he inflicted on the poor woman. From there his “antics” only escalated and grew in viciousness as he aged.

With his age came knowledge and practice with his gift, born from two Dark Casters of influence Aziel had all of the training and instruction he needed to harness his gift to the utmost potential. Once he finished school he took up residence in one of the mansions that are found in level five. It was an old place of his father’s though he has changed the décor a bit to give it his own personal flare. Often he throws parties for his “friends” and peers, to show off his wealth and power more than anything else. At these parties he has live “entertainment” and games in which the humans are often the main attraction.

Now, in his early thirties he still acts much the same as the young man he appears to be. There is no true seriousness when it comes to him, because the world is a game for him to enjoy. His father has been hinting heavily that he needed to think about his future in the community, namely his place on the council. While a place on the council would be beneficial to his plans for total power and control, he is not sure he wants the responsibility just yet.

Basic Information;
Full Name: Joseph Edward Richardson
Nicknames: Jo
Age: 40
Birth Date: 08/15/1974
Sex: Male
Ethnicity: White
Species: Human
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Religion: None. Long ago he lost faith in everything but his own hands.
Place of Birth: Level three
Place of Residence: Level Three
Occupation: Miner


Appearance;
Hair: Salt and pepper grey hair is cut close to his head reminiscent of an old and forgotten military tradition. For a more practical reason it helps with the fitting of his helmet.
Eyes: A kind grey that shows the years of hardship he has endured has not truly affected him as a person.
Build: He stands at a burly 6’2 and weighs roughly 250 lbs, with the muscular build of a man who works hard.
Clothing&Style: A well-kept and groomed beard adorns his chin, matching in the salt and pepper of the hair atop his head. Torn and worn coveralls make up the majority of his clothing along with a helmet, pair of old boots and work gloves.

Jo is only imposing due to his overall size and presence; the aged, veteran look in his eyes and his soft spoken though confident tone often makes others at least listen to what he has to say. Due to the lack of material available he only wears a pair of faded and worn out jean coveralls. At one point one of the straps broke and so he has this whole “Tarzan” look going for him.

Personality;
Likes: Staying out of trouble, working, providing for his family, protecting his family and living.
Dislikes: Causing trouble, not working, being unable to provide for his family and crossing paths with a DarkCaster.
Strengths: Physically strong, high endurance, loyal, dependable as the rock he mines.
Weaknesses: Does not take risks, would rather never strive for anything more than what he has.
Habits: Scratches his beard while he is in thought and chews on his pen when filling out paperwork.
Quirks: Suffers from a mild case of Claustrophobia.
Dreams: To see his children grow up and survive in this world.
Fears: Losing his family.

Jo is an average man with no desire to be out going or exposed in any way. He is a natural leader only due to people expecting him to have all of this knowledge and experience from his years of just being alive. Soft spoken and prefers to talk things through rather than shout, he is rarely seen not his usual calm cool and collected self.

History;
Parents' Marriage Status: Married
Mother: Sherry Tabitha Richardson-Deceased
Father: Thomas Randal Richardson- Deceased
Sibling: None
Sibling: None
Relevant Family Member: None
Relevant Family Member: None
Spouse/ Significant Other: Katey Beth Richardson
Children: Joseph Jr [4] Margret [7]

Jo is average, plain and simple. He has never been anything outstanding or anyone worthy of note. He keeps his head down and just works the mines, same as his father had done following the event that changed the course of the world. As a young man he met his wife and they married for love and had two children who are his entire world. It is for them that he goes to work every day and tries his hardest to make ends meet. It is for them that he does he absolute most to not get on anyone’s radar about anything. Such is his committed to this, even when he is starving and just fed the last of the food to his family, he will not trade to another for some extra rations. The mines are his home and it is in the mines that he spends most of his time, grateful that thus far he had not had any horrific accidents.

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Basic Information;
Full Name: James Harlem Vasquez
Nicknames: Papa
Age: 53, hard to tell actual age thanks to size
Birth Date: 04/13/1961
Sex: Male
Ethnicity: White
Species: Human
Sexuality: Yes
Religion: None
Place of Birth: New York City
Place of Residence: Level 2
Occupation: Harem owner and proprietor


Appearance;
Hair: Balding, Grey
Eyes: Brown, sunken in.
Build: 5'6" and 592 lbs. Morbidly Obese
Clothing&Style: When business is open, he wears a silken purple robe that covers the majority of his body. When in private, clothing is not necessary.

Average in height but with a waste that nearly matches in width, "papa" is quite obese. A thin silk robe is all the covers the ripples of fat on most days, and if you're unlucky enough to see him in private, there will be even less to leave to imagination. A grim smile is a common appearence on his face, held happily above an oddly strong jawline. His eyes are sunken slightly into his head, coupled with the squinting he does when he smiles, few can say they've seen his brown eyes.

Personality;
Likes: Food, "relations", fine wine, checkers, card games and silk.
Dislikes: Authority, soda, children, silent entertainers, burnt/wasted food.
Strengths: Knows many secrets from various patrons, near endless store of food and a silver tongue
Weaknesses: Not physical or mobile at all, his appearance also is reviled by many thanks to his choice of clothing.
Habits: Overindulgence to a large degree. He partakes in the pleasures of his guests as well.
Quirks: A need to squint as he smiles, as well as a revulsion of cheap wine.
Dreams: A long, prosperous life in luxury.
Fears: The dark casters, and starvation. Going a half a day without food would cause panic.

Of the seven sins of old, James is a particular fan of Lust and Gluttony. A happy and jovial deviant of a man, he is as likely to shake your hand as he is to stare lustfully at your hips, man or woman. Running the most successful whorehouse ever has gone right to his head, and he lives in a world of his own creation, lavished by all the food he could ever want, and all the women he could ever dream of, thanks to his rich stores and their desperate families.

History;
Parents' Marriage Status: Deceased
Mother: Abby Vasquez
Father: Thomas Vasquez

For the first three years of his life, James was a normal New York infant. Raised well enough, happy to go along with his parents, crying when he didn't get his way. As a toddler he remembered playing with his friends and laughing and all the freedom there was. And he remembered the day the sun turned off, and he remembered the cold, and the fear all around him. Like so many other people, he and his parents fled to what would be known as level 1 of their new home beneath the crust of their earth. And like so many other people, they suffered in the harsh conditions caused by the unforgiving eternal night. As he got older things got worse, people dying around him, murder for scraps of food, disease gone untreated, and so many dead from the cold alone. His mother whore'd herself for scraps at his father's beckoning, and it got them by, until his death from a simple flu when james was but 18 years old. It was time for him to take the reigns as man of the house, and James did just that. Whoring his own mother to the local better off's, for what food they could spare. The difference between him and his father however, was that James saw the bigger picture. The dark casters controlled everything, so why not appeal to their darker interests? He found girls and boys of good looks around the crannies of level one, promising their families food in return, and made his way into level two, establishing his new business, his "Harem" for all willing. It has been over 30 years since then, and with the largest Harem, and a gut to match it, James hasn't regretted a thing.

_________________

Eferhilda's human has been added and approved :) Can't wait to see the other sheets!

Make sure, when you submit your sheets you keep them all in one post, so as to keep this thread organized!

_________________

Basic Information;
Full Name: Abigail Maryanne Judd
Nicknames: Abby
Age: 26, looks more like 19-20
Birth Date: 06/05/1987
Sex: Female
Ethnicity: White
Species: Human
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Religion: None, though she pretends to follow Sarresephtis if questioned. She has never heard the name 'Evacskaldion', but she has heard whispers of a God of Light... she is curious about this god, but dares not look further into it in case she ends up like her sister.
Place of Birth: Level 3
Place of Residence: Level 3
Occupation: Assembly line worker--machine maintenance, team supervisor, coal inspection/handling


Appearance;
Hair: Abby has mousy brown hair that hangs limp and straight. It is soft to the touch and long, and doesn't tangle easily; however, it looks 'dead' and unkempt. She wears it tied up if she can find rubber bands or hair ties. When she can, she gets it cut--not stylishly, just to keep it out of the way.
Eyes: Wide, curious eyes the color of coffee. They look almost too big for her face and give her a childish appearance at times. She has thick but short lashes that are dark brown.
Build: Abby is fine-boned and somewhat scrawny. She's very flat-chested and boyish, with a stick-like build that could have been the envy of size 2 models in magazines. Something about the way her waist and limbs are shaped look feminine, however, and the female features of her face are hard to miss.
Clothing&Style: Abby doesn't really pay much attention to style. She wears loose, ill-fitting garments and hates shoes unless it's too dangerous to walk around without them. Because of this, she has wide, flat feet. She usually dons hand-me-down men's t-shirts and women's shorts. She doesn't like pants much because she feels as though they hinder movement, but she doesn't like skirts, either. She wears a handmade bracelet on her left wrist with a few beads tied in--something her little sister made for her a long time ago.

Abigail Judd is a scrawny, unassuming thing, tall and lanky, but somehow able to disappear into a crowd of people like a drop of rain in an ocean. She has long limbs and a thin, oval face, with too-big eyes, a pointed nose, and thin lips. Her hair is limp and boring, but one thing that remains alive in her features are her eyes, despite their common brown coloring. They are large and round, always looking past things, and always thoughtful. She is often caught staring at things for slightly-more-than-comfortable lengths of time, just observing or watching.

She can't really be described as attractive at all. Having always lived underground, her skin is extremely pale and almost gray in color, with dark circles always hanging around her eyes. Her arms end in spider-like, nimble hands that could have been a pianist's in another time. The skin is covered in callouses and rough spots and always stained black with coal, like a permanent tattoo. If cleaned up or fed a few Twinkies, she could probably be somewhat pretty, but as-is, she's plain and boring.

Personality;
Likes: Abby likes having quiet moments of peace to herself, drawing with charcoal, people-watching, learning things/asking questions, music, and singing when nobody's around.
Dislikes: She dislikes work, speaking in public, loud people, people that discourage her curiosity, and her own looks.
Strengths: Abby can blend in with the crowd very well. This puts her very much below the radar most of the time, and though her sister was brought into question, her unassuming looks and personality made her seem harmless. She also has a bit of a curious spark in her that helps her learn things very quickly. She's like a sponge, absorbing information and legends when she hears them, using the knowledge to her advantage when she can. She has extremely rare moments of bravery, too, but most of the time she bows her head humbly to keep her own life or the lives of her peers. She is also very organized and can 'shut down' to consider things logically when she needs to.
Weaknesses: Having grown up thinking she was the lowest on the totem pole as a human, she has horrible self-esteem and tends to fall for 'groupthink' tactics. She is disturbed easily by a disrupted routine, and when something small falls out of place, she fears that something bad will happen--just like when her mother, father, and brother died, or when her sister was taken away.
Habits: She stares at things for too long, draws what she observes with leftover charcoal, and shies away from conversation with others.
Quirks: Definitely the staring. People tend to dislike this about her. Sometimes, when deep in thought, she'll think of something and react to it aloud (i.e., laughing about something quietly in the middle of nowhere). She tends to be in her own world. Abby is also a bit different from others in that she's less quick to categorize/judge and more likely to question her surroundings. This often wars with her cautious personality, though.
Dreams: Abby wants to know what it's like beyond her home, to live a more luxurious life. She also hopes to find her sister, Jessica, and that she isn't dead. Abby also dreams of learning to read, write, and have access to more knowledge about her world and what used to exist on the surface in the light of the sun.
Fears: The Dark Casters, of course, but her fear is more personal and close to home. She fears that her sister, Jessica, is dead, and she fears that someday they will come to take her away, too.

Abigail is an introverted, mousy sort of woman. She prefers to keep her life private and is often accused of being too reclusive, watching others from a safe distance. Understandably, she is paranoid about trusting others too much and stays away from forming close bonds. However, she is gentle and kind with the children she works with. She is also extremely unassertive and allows herself to be bossed around and even bullied by her elders at times.

Abby is extremely orderly and likes everything to have its place. Her living quarters are neat and tidy. The walls are covered in pictures she'd drawn of her family when they were around, and a few images of the cave her father and brother had mined in before they collapsed. She also likes her days to be structured into a routine, not because she likes the monotony, but because she has learned that a break in the routine could mean danger. This is probably from the days when each of ther family members were taken away from her at one point or another.

Despite most of her family (if not all) being dead, Abby is an emotionally stable, strong woman who has a quiet sort of bravery about her. She has an undying, silent optimism that things will get better, that she will find her sister, and something will be done to make their lives easier. Abby can be very accomodating and kind, to the expense of herself and her own health. Too many times, she has taken over the work of a tired or slow child and paid the price of less hours of rest.

Abby is extremely inquisitive and loves to learn. She absorbs everything like a sponge and has a near photographic memory of things. She is good at putting things together in her mind, like logical puzzles. She enjoys riddles and word games and hearing stories of the surface before the Light went out.

History;
Parents' Marriage Status: Married
Mother: Margaret Annabelle Judd, would now be 51. Deceased due to severe eclampsia when giving birth to Jessica.
Father: Johnathan Terrence Judd, would now be 56. Deceased along with Thomas while mining coal in a cave-in, along with a group of miners.
Sibling: Jessica Annabelle Judd, 19. Whereabouts unknown. She went missing after someone accused her of having Light within her, and was taken away, never to return. Abby isn't sure if she was killed or not, and when questioned, she denied having Light capabilities.
Sibling: Thomas Johnathan Judd, would now be 25. Deceased alonside his father in a cave-in.
Relevant Family Member: Jessica Judd, though missing, is a constant thought on Abby's mind. As the eldest, Abby was always looking after her youngest sibling. After what happened, Abby feels that it is her duty to keep looking for Jess, though she has no idea if she'll ever find her.
Spouse/ Significant Other: None, and has no interest in finding a mate or spouse at the time.
Children: None

Abby was born as the first child to Margie and John Judd in a desolate, sunless world, never knowing anything but the underground. She was carried around in slings on her mother's back until she could walk, and was put to work as soon as possible in the assembly lines of the coal mines. The girls were usually put to work here, the men volunteering to actually go deeper and mine the actual coal to save their women and children from such dangerous and hard work. As soon as Abby was able to understand, she knew that Light was a bad thing to talk about, and the Dark Casters were their masters--even if the humans were unwilling slaves.

She was a precocious child, never speaking much, but always talking in full sentences when she did. Abby questioned everything around her, and would especially pester her parents for answers about her world. She was told many stories of Earth before the Sun went out, though the mentions of the Light God and Light Casters were glossed over. Even as a young child, she sensed the fear and foreboding behind the mere mention of these people.

Her two-years younger brother, who worked in the mines, was often too tired to spend time with her, but he always had a friendly smile and greeting for her each night. Her father was a somewhat dull man, but he was happy enough with his loving wife in a world that ate at everyone's well-being.

Abby excelled at her job as an assembly worker, and was eventually promoted to overseeing the work of the younger children. She was gentle with them and tried to keep them safe, seeing as the machines were extremely dangerous--known to snatch fingers and limbs in an instant. Though she couldn't prevent every injury, Abby's promotion helped improve morale and prevent much bodily harm, and improved her sector's efficiency significantly. As she grew older, she was given more tasks to do, and now she does all the work of a regular child worker threefold, plus supervision and machine maintenance. This keeps her very busy most of the time.

When she has time alone, she goes into deep thought and sketches what she observes on schematic paper with leftover charcoal bits. She has become quite talented at this, and has many drawings of her surroundings--machines, rocks, coal, fire, anything. She even draws portraits upon request and has a real knack for capturing the 'soul' of a person. The children she works with like to watch her draw as a pastime.

The day came when her mother, pregnant with a third child, went into labor... but this time, something wasn't right. Abby's father, John, worried sick because Margie had a rapid heartbeat and profuse sweating, as well as much more pain than the previous two births had given her. The baby came too fast for Margie, who was suffering from eclampsia according to a woman who claimed to have been a nurse in the surface world. Abby's mother slipped away right before their eyes, despite everyone's best efforts.

The world became a little duller after this, but Abby coped with the loss by keeping busy raising her baby sister. A child herself, Abby wished that she could have had more help from her father... but he was a broken man without his wife, and he became nothing more than a shell. Years passed, and Jessica became another worker in the assembly lines. Jessica was bright and cheerful in comparison to the rest of the family, but she was Abby's bright, shining star. The two of them became close--closer than even Abby and Tommy had ever become.

When Jessica turned five, and Abby was on the cusp of turning 12, a rumbling sound came to their ears from where their brother and father were working. Crumbling rocks came crashing down, to their dismay, and the cave they'd formed while mining had collapsed entirely. Tommy, John, and their team of miners were crushed instantly. It was a devastating time for their community. Though they still had two other teams of miners, losing a third of their men hit the morale and industry hard in the small village. Jessica was never quite as bright and cheerful after that, and Abby had become far more withdrawn. She wouldn't even allow children to watch her draw after that.

And then was the day that the Dark Casters came. Someone in their village, looking to gain favor to make up for the financial loss of the lack of miners, had chosen to make up a story about one of their own showing signs of having Light within them... and he had chosen Jessica. The little girl was only eight years old at the time, Abby fifteen. Jess was snatched away for questioning, never to return, and Abby was also questioned by an emotionless Caster. Tears streaming down her face, she denied having any signs of Light within her, and was forced to deny her sister in order to stay alive. This nearly broke Abigail's spirit, but after some time of grieving, she held onto the hope that Jessica could still be alive somewhere within the Dark Casters' clutches... as foolish the notion was. The man who had outed Jessica had also disappeared with the Dark Casters, his whereabouts unknown after that.

Nowadays, Abby still works the same job, but waits for the day when she can learn more about the Casters and where they may have taken Jessica... or her body.

_________________
"I live as I wish. My life is none of your business." -Proto Man

Here is my human, I will get my Dark Caster up here shortly




Basic Information;
Full Name: Octavio Lucas Icavetti
Nicknames: Olli
Age: 26
Birth Date: 03/09/1988
Sex: Male
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Species: Human
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Religion: Olli never really believed in a God, due to the past that he has suffered…
Place of Birth: Level 1
Place of Residence: Level 2
Occupation: Hard laborer, Olli works odd ends and outs, if it is a job that requires grunt work, he is on it, if he could die, he is there, he’ll do anything for money…


Appearance;
Hair: Jet black and thick. Olli spikes it up on top with the cheap gel that he can afford. He has a short scruffy beard upon his face as well which adds to his dark appearance.
Eyes: Olli has the eyes that seem to have lost soul, no love, no light remains. It is a murky green that remains, he has lost all hope in humanity ever breaking free from the clutches of the dark casters.
Build: Lean, Olli lifts a lot of things and is always running here and there, depending on the job he is doing for a dark caster. He stands in at a nice 175 lbs and 6 feet even in height.
Clothing&Style: Olli wears what he can find. His favorite is his black pea coat that he pulled off of a dead body in the mines. Sure, it has a few dark blood stains. Sure it smells a bit funny. But it was free. Right? It also keeps him warm, which is another plus, since heat isn’t really something he can afford. He has tattered jeans and old holy boots to fulfill his attire. The boots are two sizes two big, and the jeans are held on by an old cracked leather belt.

Olli looks cold. Stone cold. He lacks emotion in his expression, he lacks hope in his eyes. He goes through his days with the same blank stare, the same void eyes. Day in and day out. Though, some are wary of him, due to his height and strength, he appears menacing at times. His clothes have never fit right, either too snug, or falling off. There is never an in-between. But, he has gotten used to this over the years. He relies on trash and the reminisce of dead bodies for his belongings, as well as some form of food.

Personality;
Likes:
Warmth - it is something that he rarely gets to enjoy, especially where he lives.
Family – He has never gotten the chance to experience life with a loving family, though, he looks to those that have that…and he longs to hold another in his arms to reassure…to look to the future, to build, to create hope.
Food – It is a rare thing to get a hold of real food. Something that hasn’t been tossed aside for trash. He is alone and is usually found scrounging for something or another. He finds rations here and there, but a real sit down meal…it is something he dreams of…something he has only had a handful of times in his life.
Work – Olli will do anything. And…anything really does mean anything. He has been used and abused by the Dark Casters and he has the scars to prove it. But, if it is work, he will do it without a second thought in the back of his mind. Because work means money…and money means food and shelter…which ultimately means survival.
Money – An easy one here, Olli loves his work just as much as he loves his money. He pushes all humility aside when it comes to earning money. He will kill for it if he has to, and he has….

Dislikes:
Cold – level two is better than where he grew up on level one, but it is still not the best at keeping the warmth in. His clothes are holy and worn…it is an ever going struggle for him to escape.
Dark Casters – The selfish pieces of work that shove humans around. He hates them. With a burning hot passion. They killed his family. His father, mother, and sister. What more would you expect from a man that lost his family to the cynical beings that have taken a liking to providing pain and suffering to the fragile humans?
Hunger – Just like the cold, this is another ever going battle that Olli has to fight. He barley has money to afford his worthless excuse for a home…why would he have money to feed himself?
Suffering of others – The Dark Casters are always out to hurt the humans, they take pride in the pain. Olli has been close to death on several occasions for stepping up and volunteering himself over the mother of three, or the frail old man. He heroically steps up and holds his head high as he offers himself for the torture. You might call him a masochist of sorts….maybe. He has even been known to give up his food, or his items that he has rummaged from the trash, just to help a fellow human.
Being controlled – He has learned to bite his tongue…especially from his latest near death experience with one of the Dark Casters. It left him lying in a heap on level one, barely breathing…it was luck that he survived. He is still not sure to this day how, or why.

Strengths:
Endurance – From his work Olli can endure almost anything, pain, running, lifting, you name it…he will not stop until he physically cannot go any further.
Honorable to a fault – He will always stick to his word, even if in the end that may mean his death.
Physically strong – from the lifting, running, and other odd things that he is asked to do by the Dark Casters, he can keep up with most anyone. Given his age, he is usually one of the strongest around, and fastest.
Critical thinking – Olli can see through most puzzling situations, this helps him get out of a tight spot if need be.
Fearless – He as fearless as a lion before the hunter’s rifle barrel. He stares down the cold metal with determination upon his face, he seems to laugh at the thought of his death. Because, that is all he feels he has control over.
Weaknesses:
Fearless – this could ultimately get him killed, if he is not careful.
Impatient – The only patience he has is that to breathe. Beyond that, he wants to get everything done as soon as possible. This sometimes causes frustration among his human counterparts.
Hopeless – Olli always seems to have a frown upon his face, his expression is that of the loss of hope. It causes most to steer clear of him, because, who wants to be lower than they already are?
Hot-headed – This can get Olli into trouble, with both the Dark Casters and his fellow humans. Sometimes he just can’t hold it in, sometimes he lays it all out for everyone to see, which in the end, gets him punished in more ways than one. He is lucky that he is a good worker, otherwise he would have been thrown back to level one a long time ago.
Habits: Olli tends to pace a lot. He mumbles when he is becoming frustrated, it is usually a random mumbling that pertains to absolutely nothing, though it can be misconstrued as him talking back.
Quirks: Olli can’t seem to focus under pressure. If something is going down, he freezes. Even if for an instant, it is like his brain is overloaded and he just can’t compute the information that has just been given to him.
Dreams: To survive. It’s quite simple; he wants to survive, to better himself, to move up in the world, and to have a loving family that is successful….
Fears: Losing everything he has worked for to get to where he is. He isn’t very far along, he isn’t anything special. But he gets jobs, he gets money, and he survives. Before, he was rummaging every single day, and freezing every single night. Now, at least he has some comforts.

Olli, although a lowly human wants to be something more, something bigger than he could ever possibly be and he knows that this is impossible. Especially with the Dark Casters keeping the humans in check like tiny bugs….squashing the ones that try to rise above. He never really stands up to the Dark Casters, as he knows that will get him killed, though he has been known to start tiffs, be it on accident or just his personality. He has the hot-headed temper of a five year old that just can’t get that favorite piece of candy. Yet, if a fellow human is in trouble, he is the first to stand up and offer his own body his own mind…just to save those around him, in hopes that things will eventually get better…though, his hope that things would improve has been lost years ago with the death of his parents at the young age of six. He watched his mother and father slaughtered before him. The hot feeling of their blood still haunts his nightmares to this day. The sounds of his older sister screaming still shatter his ear drums within his nightmarish dreams…

History;
Parents' Marriage Status: Married
Mother: Liana Silvia Icavetti deceased
Father: Grant Connor Icavetti deceased
Sibling: Juliet Bella Icavetti deceased
Sibling: -----
Relevant Family Member: -----
Relevant Family Member: -----
Spouse/ Significant Other: -----
Children: -----

Octavio’s life has been nothing short of a tragedy. His family lived in the lowest of low, level one. It was all his mother and father could bare. His father had a back injury that prevented him from working in the mines and his mother had to help care for Olli and his older sister Juliet. It wasn’t an easy situation. He managed a bit of luck at the age of six when he slipped into the shadows out of the view of the Dark Casters, he watched as his mother and father were slaughtered brutally. Luckily, he only had to listen to the screams of his sister as her body was turned into a shredded mess as well. From that day forward he lost his hope. His outlook was grim. He scavenged for food as a child and until he was big enough to start working for the Dark Casters, he starved. His body looked much like a holocaust victim. His bones stuck out, his cheek bones were prominent, his skin pale and grey. His eyes sunk in like a corpse…it was something that he tried terribly hard to forget. Something that made him help the families that were punished by the Dark Casters. His death meant nothing compared to the death of a mother or father to a child…that was Olli’s belief anyway. He has become the go to man, a strong hard worker that will do anything for money. Offer him a coin and he will kill a man. Offer him more, well, the opportunities are endless. Needless to say, if a Dark Caster tells him to do it, he won’t argue, even if he knows there is no payment involved. His quick tongue and hot temper get him into trouble sometimes but recently, after a near death experience Olli has learned to keep his mouth sewn shut. Do not speak unless spoken to. The quote is something that he hopeless human seems to follow….for the most part. His fellow humans can sense his hopelessness. They seem to steer clear of his murky green eyes and his blank expression. As if, just his presence will bring them down…this leaves Olli with no one but himself, when he truly longs to have a family, or at least something to hold onto, something to bring his hope back…

And here is my Dark Caster




Basic Information;
Full Name: Kalila Nadia Eberstark
Nicknames: Kali
Age: 22, though she looks to be around 19
Birth Date: 10/24/1991
Sex: Female
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Species: Dark Caster
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Religion: Sarresephtis
Place of Birth: Level 4
Place of Residence: Level 5
Occupation: CEO of Eberstark Industries (A financial company founded by her father)


Appearance;
Hair: Blond, straight and teased, she usually has low lights mixed in, sometimes even a random color such as red, or even blue.
Eyes: A off greyish blue that seemed to steal away ones deepest of memories.
Build: 5’3’’, 115 pounds, small build, though she is quite strong for her size
Clothing&Style: Kali can be found wearing anything from a beautiful short cut dress, to jeans and a ripped up t-shirt. She is trendy and generally follows the styles that come about. Her clothes are of the most expensive threads she can find, this girl won’t settle for a hand-me-down. She tends to wear dark eyeliner around her eyes with thick mascara, which causes the blue of her hues to pop out over the grey murkiness of her eyes.

Kali follows the scene; she tends to have the most fashionable of styles for her age group. Her closet is full of hues from black to white, red to blue, anything she can get her hands on she is more than happy to have. She generally causes heads to turn with her sense of fashion. The most striking of her features would be her hair, which she tends to change on a weekly basis at best, adding in reds, taking out browns and other such colors.

She manages to have a welcoming look about her, despite her position of power. It is something that has led humans astray in the past, even to their death. Many times humans have misconstrued this innocent look to be care or compassion toward their race, though, in the end, they found out that it was just that…a look. Kali’s small build also causes some to underestimate her, to think of her as fragile. Though, this is far from the case. She can hold her own, and she can hold it well.

Personality;
Likes:
Conflict: she lives for the screaming and yelling of those from anger or despair. The look in their eyes causes a smirk to curve up on her face.
Power: Being born into a strong family, she is used to being in a position where she can push others around easily, her father is the founder of the company that she has just taken the seat of CEO in on Level 5.
Struggle: She loves the look in the eyes of a human as they lay upon the floor, their blood pooling from their body, their breaths short. It seems as though in this moment one can really see the soul.
Fashion: As Kali is in with the fashion scene, staying up on trends and attending shows and what not, she tends to come up with wild ideas of her own.
The night life: Kali is always out, no matter the day of the week, if she has to be up early, so be it. She is going to go out no matter what she is told. She tends to go to raves and other such parties, though she can also be found sitting at the bar, drinking a few shots when there isn’t a good rave or fashion show to attend.
Social events: She thrives to be around her fellow Dark Casters. She is a social butterfly after all. Though, she only loves to be around them to pick apart their flaws. She is perfect to herself. Her ego is about the size of the moon, if not larger.
Dislikes:
Feeling unimportant: Kali thrives on being the center of attention, if she isn’t in the center of attention somehow, she will figure out a way.
Weakness: She can’t stand the humans and their fragile ways, if she can do it, so should everyone else…at least that is her philosophy…
Humans: ‘Waste of space’ she will say, on a daily basis. Though she does gain enjoyment from watching their deaths, when she is allowed such a pleasure.
Love: It is a wasted feeling. An emotion that we don’t need. Kali is quite cold hearted, the deeper you pry, the more one finds that her hard outer shell is reinforced with more and more tough layers.
Disorganized behavior: As Kali likes to follow the rules, when something becomes sporadic and unorganized she becomes quite frustrated.
Strengths:
Analytical: Kali tends to analyze each and every situation, taking in everything before she makes a decision
Agility: Thanks to her size, she is quick with movement, which makes her a strong contender in a fight
Wit: She can usually get herself out of any situation, usually…
Fearless: She isn’t afraid to die, she will do anything to protect what she believes
Focused: If given something to do, if told to complete something, Nadia will do it and she will usually do this ahead of when she was told to complete such projects
Healing: Kali is good with just about any piece of medical equipment thanks to her mother being a nurse, thus she is a good companion to have on one’s side.
Weaknesses:
Size: She is rather small in stature, so if she isn’t on her toes she can be over powered
Short temper: Patience is not a virtue for Kali, she has a short fuse and tends to become frustrated easily
Power: As she has been graced with power her whole life, she does not know what to do when knocked from her pedestal
Habits: Kali has a nasty habit of staying out way too late and not getting enough sleep, so, if she gets the chance you will find her napping. Though, being the CEO, she can get away with this easily. She’s the boss after all. Kali also has a short fuse that has brought several humans to their death before her with one simple slice and dice.
Quirks: When entertained Kali can’t help but smirk, if she tries to suppress this, it only grows larger. Kali also has a habit of pushing herself to the top, something she has learned from her father that helped her get to CEO at such a young age. Not to mention he gave it to her.
Dreams: Kali doesn’t have much to dream of. She has most everything a girl could ask for. Except for more power, that is a given though.
Fears: Losing power. Losing the company.

Kali has a unique quirky personality that tends to clash with others, no matter the case. She is self-centered and doesn’t tend to care of what others think of her. Her job as a CEO of her father’s company has caused her to become quite ruthless. She is a hungry shark within a shark tank full of bleeding victims. She doesn’t give up, no matter the case, unless someone is to overpower her, then she will tend to fall almost instantly. It is something that she is not used to, as her parents kept her safe her entire life. Teaching her how to remain in power, and pushing her to become as powerful as possible. Her father especially wants to see his daughter take over the company for him in the future.

Kali wants nothing more than to relax, when she gets a moment to herself, she tends to sit before the old black piano in her home and play, her voice filters through the home, bouncing off of the walls that create a perfect acoustic atmosphere for her. Though, she will never speak of her musical ability to others, it is something that she just does not feel the need to share. On the other hand, if one gets close to Kali she may open up and be willing to share a number of things.

History;
Parents' Marriage Status: married
Mother: Amabelle Kacy Eberstark – living – A woman that very looks very much like her daughter. She is in the field of entertainment. This is something that Kali has taken a liking to. Music. It can fit any mood, any situation.
Father: Devon James Eberstark – living – He is the owner of Eberstark Industries. He just stepped down from the lime light and gave it up to his daughter, to give her a test run, to see if she is made for the position as he believes she is.
Sibling: Samantha (Sam) Annie Eberstark – living and quite close to Kali, the two talk on a daily basis. Sam is the younger of the siblings, she is only 16.
Sibling: Half-brother from her mother’s previous marriage – whereabouts unknown
Relevant Family Member: None
Relevant Family Member: None
Spouse/ Significant Other: To be determined
Children: None

Born into the middle class. Kali began her life on level four. She was born to her mother Amabelle and her father Devon, both Dark Casters. Her parents are both strong individuals that do not care of anyone but their two daughters. The half brother that Kali has, she has only heard of once or twice from her father. She sees her father on a daily basis, especially now with her holding the reins of the company in her own hands. Devon is quite controlling and quick to crack the whip with any mistake that she makes. So, when she isn’t out partying, she is reading over the P’s and L’s of the company. Amabelle is a simple musician. A pianist. A damn good one at that. She has taught Kali all of her tricks of the trade, though, Kali loves to play, she doesn’t do it nearly as much as her mother had hoped she would. Though, her father would be the one to blame for that. He had pushed her into the medical field as soon as possible. To teach her the discipline needed to help run their company. It was what his father did to him when he was young.

Devon pushed for her to be the best medic out there, and it showed, casters asked for her before others, simply because of the knowledge that Kali is related to Devon. As he was a strong medic before he finally took over the company from his father years ago. Devons hopes are that Kali can be just as successful with the company as he has. Their family has moved from level four to level five, after all.

Kali still does some medic work on the side, if requested. She isn’t against it, though she is rather busy with the operations of her father’s company. She tends to clock off work and find herself at the closest fashion show, rave, or bar. It is her relaxation time. It is her way of unwinding from a long day. Recently she has gone to a few fights, this is something that intrigues her. The splashing of human blood upon the mat as they fight for their lives. It causes a subtle smirk to turn up the corners of her mouth. Not to mention the crunch of bones against the ring floor. That is something she would pay good money just to hear.

Kali is a quirky spunky girl that can find a group to fit in, no matter the place or time. Then again, she has always seemed to fit in. She enjoys the time that is spent with other Dark Casters, it is something that she highly looks forward to after working at the company all day. Though, if she is feeling introverted sometimes she can be found at her home on level five playing a simple baby grand that her mother bought her. The sound of the music reverberating over the lovely wooden floors of her home is enough to send chills down ones spine.

_________________

I got the DC done. I'll edit the human in as soon as I've finished him.



Basic Information;

Full Name: Katya Elisif Prochenkova
Nicknames: "The Animal"
Age: 76 years old, appears around late twenties
Birth Date: 21/4/1938
Sex: Female
Ethnicity: Nordic-Caucasian
Species: Dark Caster
Sexuality: Anything goes
Religion: Sarresephtis
Place of Birth: Malmö, Sweden
Place of Residence: Level 4
Occupation: Enforcer (a.k.a. The oppressive right hand of the elite)

Appearance;

Hair: Blonde, cut in a lopsided fashion. Short above the collar on the right, long down to bicep level on the left.
Eyes: Blue, seem to sparkle in the right light.
Build: Lean and muscular, sure signs of someone who takes great pride in their body and will punish themselves for any minor deviation from their plan for better body image.
Clothing & Style: Practical and comfortable, rarely anything flashy. When "on the job" she wears things more conducive to intimidation and protection.

Straight out and practical, with minor touches of personal style and taste, is the bread and butter of Katya's clothing norm. For the most part she is uninterested in the frippery and vanity the upper classes display in their dress, preferring instead to display her tastes on her own form.

Jagged tattoos adorn most of he upper body, somewhat reminiscent of Maori Tribal markings, but certain in their display of her strength, arrogance and devotion to bringing human pain to Sarresephtis' ears. To one who was alive before the Ritual, to see her would remind them of militaries of old, all wreathed in a very stylish black.

When indulging in her favourite pastime of oppressing humankind she tends to wear Enforcer Armour, a suit based off of older Riot Control designs, more for the intimidation factor it provides than any need for protection. Still, having armoured gloves helps when you're breaking bones.

Personality;

Likes:

- Expressing Dominance: Whether it is in a boudoir or in the frigid depths of Level One, Katya finds enjoyment in expressing her power over others, physically or otherwise.
- Blood: She has a perverse fascination with blood. When confronted with it she will often touch it and sniff it, perhaps even lick it. The sight of her own blood simply serves to irritate her.
- Pain: Her own. Masochistic as all hell, her own pain lets her know she is alive and she loves it. If confronted in a fight she will often let her opponent strike her at least once to know pain from them. Being allowed to strike more than once is her way of complimenting you on your skill before you die.
- Combat: Katya lives for the fight. She is only truly happy when she is breaking necks and bleeding foes. When not fighting she seems to stalk like a panther, waiting for an excuse to strike.
- Competition: Everything is a competition. Everything is a challenge. If she is not winning, she is doing well enough.

Dislikes:

- "Kill Stealers": Katya has a very certain definition of "mine and thine" when it comes down to keeping the humans in check. If someone attempts to kill one she considers hers to end, she will lash out furiously at them. Vice versa applies as well, she will not step in to confront anyone she considers "not hers" unless the one currently fighting them clearly cannot win.
- Pretention: You are what you are, not what you think you are or should be. Any motion to the contrary will quickly draw her wrath.
- Disrespect: She has earned the right to respect and she knows it. Anyone not showing her the requsite level of it might find their head turned the wrong way around.
- Entitlement: In her view, you are entitled to nothing save what you earn. Those who believe they are might count themselves lucky just to receive a vicious tongue lashing.
- Laggards & Laziness: There is no reason to be lazy. There is no reason that you cannot do something if you are clearly idle. You might as well get moving.
- Gluttons: Ties in with above. You eat too much, you get fat. Fatness is a sure sign of laggardly behaviour and gluttony. Katya hates you already.

Strengths:

- Strength & Skill: Katya takes great pride in her physical ability, with good reason. It is likely that she is the best hand-to-hand fighter in the city, a claim she is all too happy to spread.
- (Mostly) Impervious to Pain: She thrives on pain. She loves it. If it becomes a distraction, she will simply ignore it. Pain is nothing to her.
- Cunning: Although certainly not a philosopher or anything like it, Katya is intelligent enough to constantly come up with new ways to do things, be it an inventive way to have sex or a quick way to catch a fugitive slave.
- Specialty Power: Katya has spent years honing her powers into the perfect weapon of manipulation. She can supress thoughts and feelings, invade your mind to steal knowledge and even cause your own body to rebel against itself, causing internal havoc in the unlucky victim.

Weaknesses:

- Reckless: "Fools rush in where Angels fear to tread.", advice given to her by her devoutly Catholic aunt before the Ritual. Advice she has comprehensively failed to heed.
- Arrogance: Katya is the best at what she does. No-one else even comes close. If they try, she will win every time. Right?
- Pyrophobia: Katya has a crippling fear of fire, having once been trapped in a burning building before her powers were fully realised. More than one individual has managed to escape her using this fear, but she has always found them again. She is often uneasy when traversing the forge areas of Level Three.
- Emotionally Fragile: Despite her assertions to the contrary, Katya does have feelings. They are well hidden, buried beneath a mass of anger and black hate, but they are there. One push in the right spot and she might just snap.

Habits:

- Readiness: People often she Katya rolling her shoulders, neck and wrists, as well as stretching her other less rotational muscles in preparation for... anything. She has been doing it for so long that it is no longer a conscious action.

Quirks:

- Growling: When angered Katya will often growl in a distinctly animalistic way. Ths used to be an attempt to unsettle her opponents, but it has become part of her with long use.
- Mark of the Hunt: After successfully killing someone, Katya will often adorn her face with their blood in a bizarre display of respect and affection for their death or their skill. Those who die without a fight and mewling deserve no such honour as those who either fight or die well.

Dreams: Katya dreams of the perfect hunt, chasing down a foe who is capable of besting her and engaging them in battle. She longs for this chance to test herself against a true foe.

Fears: More than anything else, Katya fears losing. She fears failure, failure to win.

Some call Katya mad. She isn't, but they're not far off. Some call her an animal. That's closer to the truth. She is an animal. An animal in a humanoid body, constrained by the limits of her current form. She tries to live up to this, hiding her fragile self behind her rage and snarkish manner.

It's little wonder that many amongst the humans call her "The Animal". What is a wonder is how this glass cannon has survived so many firings without breaking.

History;

Parents' Marriage Status: Separated
Mother: Anna Prochenkova
Father: Uriel Prochenkov
Sibling: None
Sibling: None
Relevant Family Member: Kristina Liminova (Aunt)(deceased)
Relevant Family Member: None
Spouse/Significant Other: None yet. If you think you can take her, however...
Children: None

In her early years, life just passed by the whimsical and airheaded Katya. She didn't care for it, she simply played her "games" with her "friends" and enjoyed what her life had provided for her. Nothing bothered her, not even the death of her dog. That was, until the fire. An abandoned hut in a poor neighbourhood. Her "friends", all humans whom she had terrorised, locked her inside it before setting fire to the whole structure. She only escaped by crawling out through a burning chink in the enclosing walls, suffering burns that would fade with time and a phobia that would not.

Fifteen years later, all of her old "friends" were dead, killed by her own hands as her power grew into fruition with puberty and young adulthood. These were her first hunts. From there she often hired out her services to those who wanted problems to disappear, practicing the same techniques that would one day make her an intimidating foe.

After the Ritual and the death of the sun forced everyone underground, she began to ply her trade again, albeit in a more official function now. She has not yet grown bored of her lot and enjoys what entertainment there is to be had in this new order. Of course there is that nagging voice at the back of her mind that insists that something is wrong with this, but it has little sway over what she has become.

__________________________________________________________________________________



Basic Information;

Full Name: Dayl André Steyn
Nicknames: None
Age: 29, appears as such
Birth Date: 3/8/1985
Sex: Male
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Species: Human
Sexuality: Straight
Religion: Methodist Christian
Place of Birth: Level One
Place of Residence: Level One
Occupation: Miner


Appearance;

Hair: Brown, short, often messy.
Eyes: Brown
Build: Short and stocky, only just reaching 5'7", but barrel chested and muscular.
Clothing & Style: Like most denizens of Level One, Dayl wears whatever comes his way. This means he has worn some things he would not have been caught dead in if the world was still normal, but for now he is decidedly average as to what he currently wears.

Barrel chested, hairy and with a low centre of gravity, Dayl is often described as being "built like a brick outhouse". He is often dirty and never fully clean, even when he tries to remove the dirt that is constantly about his person.

His clothes are a combination of scrounged items and makeshift ones he has sewn together from all kinds of old material. A pair of boots old enough to be worn by his great grandfather round out his sorry image.

Personality;

Likes:

- Alcohol: The world is best viewed through the bottom of a bottle and Dayl loves to keep it that way. Whenever he gets the chance, the drink flows as fast as he can manage until he has drunk himself stupid.
- Warmth: Like most people who live in Level One, Dayl holds warmth at a premium. There isn't much he wouldn't do to get some, even if just for a little while.
- Company: Sex feels good. Dayl likes to feel good. Mores the pity that the only good "company" comes with a price tag.

Dislikes:

- Dark Casters: Just like most humans, he hates their oppressive, hellish overlords with a passion unmatched by anything else in his existence.
- Paying for things: Dayl hates paying for things, whether through carefully hoarded money or favours. He is the very definition of miserly.
- Hunger: He has felt the claws of hunger more times than he cares to recall. Feeling the familiar pangs causes him distress and anger, making him unpleasant to be around.
- Mining Tunnels: Long experience has taught him exactly how little the Dark Casters care for the safety of those working the mineshafts. Collapses are daily occurences and a standard issue hard hat isn't going to help, which leads to his intense dislike of this "career" he has been forced to adopt.
- Lazy c%#€*: You either pull your weight, or he'll try to pull off you head. Dayl has had more than enough of those who won't do their fair share.
- Tall People: "What God-given right do you have that I don't?" Classic Short-Man-Syndrome, Dayl is irritated by people who are talker than him.

Strengths:

- Physical Strength: Dayl is rather strong for a relatively malnourished human being. It probably comes from the long hours of swinging a pickaxe into rocks amd the like.
- Low centre of gravity: Being short-ish has it's benefits. Dayl is a hard man to knock down in a fight, easliy maintaining his balance when talker individuals would have been sent sprawling.

Weaknesses:

- Overdeveloped Sense of Self-Preservation: Dayl has an uncanny knack for staying alive. However, this put him in a position where he doesn't often give two figs about anyone else, making him a poor team player.
- Anger Issues: Dayl is a rager. Even minor things become full blown apocalypses if he has a mind to do so. Which is the more common occurrence.

Habits: None really. He actively avoids them in fact.
Quirks:

- Superstitious: Actively avoiding doing the same thing, "...so the world doesn't catch on." is how Dayl avoids death. Or at least thats how he thinks it works.

Dreams: To leave the hellhole of a city that he lives in. Even the surface would be preferable, if he knew how to get out.
Fears: Dayl fears a long, drawn out death. He wants to die quickly if he has to die at all.

Superstitious, short angry bloke. That just about sums Dayl up. When he isn't angry he's either drunk or deathly afraid. None of which earn him many friends.

History;

Parents' Marriage Status: N/A
Mother: Andrea Steyn
Father: Unknown
Sibling: None
Sibling: None
Relevant Family Member: None
Relevant Family Member: None
Spouse/ Significant Other: None
Children: None

A few people have had the guts to ask Dayl about his parentage. His response is generally a sullen glare. He never knew his father, because neither did his mother. He was the product of rape, a brutal, mind numbing rape. He was fortunate that his mother didn't simply discard him the instant she could. Instead she subjected him to the horrific rendition of what happened as soon as he was old enough to understand. That has coloured his life ever since.

Growing up he was subject to the rough justice and brutal survival wars of Level One. He didn't thrive in this environment, but he certainly didn't collapse under the strain. He endured this horrible death sentence for years and still does on a daily basis. But by now most people know to leave him be. He's not a killer, but he won't lose any sleep over you if you make him one.

By the time he was twenty-one his mother had disappeared. Some say he did he in. Others say she got lost on the outskirt tunnels or fell victim to one of the many gangs of Level One. Dayl never comments on it, just grunts and ignores it. It's better than way.

Now he is looking for more than just hacking minerals out of rocks. He wants purpose. He wants something more.

(Not the best char I have made up, though I hope this char is still good in your guy's books.)



Basic Information;
Full Name: Victoria Louise Warren. (First name Victoria)
Nicknames: Vicky, Vic, Warren. A friend she had even called her Amber at one time because of her eyes.
Age: 25.
Birth Date: 1989.
Sex: Female.
Ethnicity: Caucasian.
Species: Victoria is a human.
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Religion: Has no belief in a god.
Place of Birth: Level two.
Place of Residence: Primarily lives on level two.
Occupation: Works mainly as a miner (Work is on level three)


Appearance;
Hair: Her hair is a dark chocolate color and is kind of rough.
Eyes: Her eyes are similar to that of amber naturally, though seem to have a shade similar to that of fire in them when light shines on them at an angle. Her eyes seem to study things as she judges people on a level of how much she can trust them. Her eyes are quite intense when she looks at someone or something, often expressing a singular emotion that could be put into words such as "Turn around, walk away and let me get my work done. Come near me for anything other than talking, prepare for a broken limb." Though she is mostly harmless in the reality of things, mostly.
Build: Semi-muscular from working in the mines and from simply living in this harsh world.
Clothing&Style: Has an astounding amount of different colored tank tops and many knee ripped jeans (Ripped at the knee to help movement during work.) Vicky also has a singular navy blue sweater for when it gets really cold, or when she needs to get into a colder area of the underground.

Victoria is a 5"8' tall brunette with amber colored eyes that hold a spiteful fire to them. She often handles mining due to her mental resilience and has the strength to prove it. Vicky has strong shoulders with an average look to her, often wearing a simple tank top and jeans for the day along with sometimes even a small red face mask she covers her face with while mining. Her hair is somewhat long and is often wrapped up in a sharp looking ponytail with even more pointy looking bangs in the front.

Personality;
Likes: Victoria holds in the highest regard the ability to sketch and anything of the like. The only problem is that it is hard to come by anything to sketch with. Luckily, her mother enjoyed it as well and thought of her. But her supply of pencils and paper are running low. She likes to flip coins in the air and try to catch them, guessing what side it will be on and does not really appreciate much else besides writing records of her days on the backside of her drawings for she knows she does not have long doing it anymore unless she finds more materials. Vicky likes to secretly guess what an individual is thinking or what their past was like. Especially the Dark Casters despite the dangers of it, sometimes... on a very off chance, she may make herself laugh.
Dislikes: Being too long with her thoughts out of fear for what she will think up eventually. She very much so dislikes the thought of this being her life, and hopes something positive will happen for her species, does not enjoy the idea of being afraid... and she very much so ironically hates the dark as a whole, which is something she hates about herself for she has to live with it everyday.
Strengths:
//Hiding her thoughts and feelings from those whom wish to pry in an attempt to ignore them, often making herself think of things she would not usually think about, such as dogs, cats and dust bunnies. This is useful against fellow humans who are targeting her for some odd reason and interrogations for whatever reason she is being interrogated for. Her father taught her how to do it before he passed away. Though it would be extremely hard to fool a Dark Caster if she foolishly decided to try.
//Adept in things that require high cardio such as running, or doing something like mining and work.
//Figuring things out if she thinks about it enough, (This goes with that thinking part in the dislike section.)
Weaknesses:
//Studying people and things.
//Burning daggers into the backs of those she distrusts with her eyes. (Not actual flaming daggers xD)
//She often voices her dislike of something.
Habits:
//Cracks her knuckles.
//Finds it hard to trust people usually just after she meets them instinctually.(Also a Quirk)
//Tends to bite the inside of her lip and grinds her teeth together every now and then.
Quirks:
//She zones out sometimes when thinking about certain things.
// Is very protective of her art and journal and will probably sock you one in the jaw if you try to go near it without her permission.
//Finds it hard to trust people usually just after she meets them instinctually. (Also a Habit)
Dreams:
//She dreams of one day, having harsh lives will end, though she also knows better to solidly believe it.
//She dreams of being able to trust someone unconditionally, besides her mother of course.
Fears:
//Getting caught when she is studying someone
//Her mothers death.
//The future and the present.
//The intentions Dark Casters have for humanity.

If you could sum up Victoria's personality in just few words, then you would be first. As much as anyone knows about the young amber eyed worker, it is often a challenge to get her to open up to you, especially if the thing you are looking for is only trouble. In most of her encounters with others, her words are often spoken in actions. Usually with a simple stare off or the turn of her face so she is seeming to completely ignore the person. Do not be fooled however, she speaks more than she is described to, many a time her words filled with an irritated tone if you are bugging her during work.

If you wish to speak to her, the best time might be after the job is all done with, then visit her and talk. She usually spends her time when not working, doing some art and or trying to write an entry in her journal. Sometimes, she feels that if she does not write a certain special thing that happened in a day that she may forget otherwise. As though she were going completely mad, even despite the fact she is more clear minded than most, almost analytical one might say. Vicky is not intellectually genius though, that much is certain about her.

History;
Parents' Marriage Status:Widowed.
Mother: Haley Warren. (Mother)
Father: Michael Warren (Father) Deceased
Sibling: Dale Warren (Brother) Missing
Sibling: None.
Relevant Family Member: Haley Warren
Relevant Family Member: -----
Spouse/ Significant Other: None
Children: None

A father who was killed in a mining incident. A brother gone missing, and a mother who is losing her mind. You could say that Vicky has not had the easiest of lives a person might have, but then again- no one has an easy life. The most she can remember of something positive actually happening in her life was when her little brother was born. Even then, this just leads to sadness again, as her brother has gone missing. She assumes him to be dead just to save the thought of him possibly abandoning Vicky and her mother, though where he could have possibly died and how? there is an infinite amount of possibilities, not many of which Victoria cares to bother with going through in her mind. Even if he was physically alive, he would be dead to her always for leaving them in her heart, and she tells herself nothing will change that.

In a time when her whole family was together, Victoria could have been what people would have called... happy. Happiness though, was hard to come by in times such as these no one was usually happy anymore. Only content, but Victoria was not even that. Against her mother's wishes, Vicky works as a miner. She understood why her mother is upset by her working in the mines, it was because father had died because of the miner occupation, but now. Despite Victoria knowing about her fathers cause of death, she just does what the job entails. Ironically her rage fuels her work, and the only thing that she actually does on her own that can calm her down is her art. Even that though, is a luxury she barely has time to play around with. Especially since if her art is discovered, it will be taken away. If it is taken away Victoria does not know what she will do, especially since the art book had once belonged to her father.

Her mother does not know about it, and if she did it would probably be taken from her and destroyed. For her mother already worries enough over everything else.

_________________


"Don't Lose That 'Little Spark of Madness' "-Personality Test Website.
And you thought I did not fit in here.

I've sent off PMs to those who have fixes, and eagerly await the other character sheets to be submitted.

Tex, after reading both of your characters, I'd love to see your human enter the world and see what sort of dynamic he can bring to the table. Octavio is officially accepted. :)

_________________

Alright, for those whom I've written about characters, I'll need to hear back soon about progress in edits you've made or a rough timeline of when your second will be submitted for consideration. If you've read the message, please let me know one way or the other. If I don't hear back from the necessary parties, I cannot guarantee their spot will be held should others join and submit before the previous sheets are completed.

If you have any questions, don't hesitate to shoot me a PM.

_________________

Basic Information;
Full Name: James Taylor Williams
Nicknames: Jamie, J
Age: 33
Birth Date: 06/29/1981
Sex: Male
Ethnicity: Black
Species: Human
Sexuality: Homosexual
Religion: Father is a baptist, currently doesn't believe in anything amidst all the suffering
Place of Birth: Level 2
Place of Residence: Level 3
Occupation: "Doctor", Miner

Appearance;
Hair: Black, kept short and wiry
Eyes: Black, shallow set, intense eyes that often betray his thoughts before he can guard them
Build: Muscular build, a respectable 5'11" weighing approximately 175lbs
Clothing&Style: Wears a stock of a few shirts, battered jeans, and an old lab jacket his father gave to him

For all his worth, James endeavors to be a man of simple pleasures. He has to in order to survive. Born and raised underground, appearances didn't really matter to him; what he and his father had between them was everything. Moderately tall, black, and with a soft look on his face, most would peg James for a slight pushover, and they'd be right. His muscular build might deter a human assailant, but never a dark caster. They had nothing to fear from him. He keeps his hair cropped short and his beard as trimmed as he's able, though not for reasons of keeping cool. Even at level three there was not a single person who was "too hot.” His clothing consisted of a few shirts and old jeans he and his father had been able to get for their medical services. People were still poor, and those who had no money offered to trade. Though his hand-me-down lab coat was old and quite dirtied, he tried to wear it often if only to keep a little warmer. Of his more telling features are his eyes. Shallow set and alight with curiosity, his eyes gave an onlooker easy access to his thoughts. One didn't have to look closely to see the sadness behind them, the need for something more. Hopelessness was hardly an unheard of trait among his fellow man, and James only hoped it didn't show too prominently in his slouched posture and sometimes shuffling gait.

Personality;
Likes:

• Learning - Specifically in medicine. His father has taught him everything he knows about the human body. Anytime he can learn something new that might be able to help someone in need gives him purpose and makes him feel a tiny bit happy even in such a dark place.
• Reading - James loves to read fiction whenever he's able. There aren't that many books around, but it is one of his distractions and he feels safe when he loses himself in a totally different world.
• Music - Singing calms him. When he's feeling anxious, he's always willing to spend a little to hear a local sing. The raw emotion touches him in a way he has trouble describing.
• Food - With so many mining injuries, James typically has enough to feed himself and his aging father twice a day. The food isn't much, but when his belly is full with a third meal it gives him the energy to crack a smile.
• Shelter - This goes along with warmth, but James enjoys the shoddy metal hut him and his father call home. When he's there, he feels safe and contained. Like the poorly fashioned sheet metal and spare parts would keep him isolated for a dark caster.

Dislikes:

• Pain - Both for himself and others. Mining accidents are never pretty, and the fact that he is so inexperienced and sometimes unable to help breaks his heart.
• Dark Casters - This goes without saying, since James doesn't appreciate cruelty. He was raised low and he knows that's all he'll ever be. It just seems like the Dark Casters love adding insult to injury, salting the wounds, as it were.
• Waste - James sees wasting anything, be it food or opportunity, as good as slapping every other person who wasn't afforded the same chance.
• Cold - Though he only remembers some of level two, his child life was defined mainly by cold and hunger. He shudders to think of what level one is like. He tries to keep moving, having adapted to the chilly temperatures of level three. Yet the cold still has a way of working into your bones
• Hunger - Another easy one. James has skipped many a meal so that his father might eat in his stead. The only reason James is able to sway him from his conviction is to remind him how much he needs him. His father must be kept strong so he can keep on learning. They both know the conditions of underground life aren't exactly favorable to the elderly and there's no telling how much time he has left.

Strengths: Kind hearted, physically able, fairly intelligent, and honest
Weaknesses: Cowardly, introverted (exc. w/father), too trusting
Habits: Bites nails, paces in circles when trying to solve a problem
Quirks: Says "okay" a lot when explaining things
Dreams: Equality among the humans and dark casters. James doesn't have any foolish aspirations of the Dark Casters regaining some humanity, but he revels in the stories his father tells him of a different time. A time when everyone was human and everyone was treated equal. The were all kinds of laws made by humans for humans, ensuring such basic things as life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Perhaps childish, maybe one day it could be like that for the underground world.
Fears: Loosing his father and then himself. His dad is everything to him, and though he knows death is inevitable, he's truly not ready for him to go.

James is a quiet man, fairly soft-spoken and non-confrontational. Growing up underground with only a father to guide his childhood has stunted some of his finer emotional development. He has a lot of feelings but with no healthy or controlled way to express them. This has led to many a crying session late at night when he thinks his father is asleep. He tries to be outwardly strong, and for the most part he is strong and dependable. Inner strength is something he strives for. Among the finer things he enjoys is learning from his father and listening to him or other sing. He likes to read, finding solace in a world, any world that is unlike his own. Teachings from his father have given him a kind hearted demeanor. He was taught to always be honest, no matter the situation, because in the end lying just made things worse. James knows that there are situations in which lying is better, situations like a dark caster threatening to harm you if you don't profess to worshiping Sarresephtis. Along with lying, James neglects to mention his agnostic view towards any god. His father knows his thoughts on things. Why would God create such a horrible world, with so much suffering? It didn't really click with him, and he doubted it ever would. Even with all of the suffering going around, he still holds hope in the future. He believes that there will come a day when humanity is treated better, like the way it used to be according to his father. He secretly holds out hope that he will be there to see that day.

History;
Parents' Marriage Status: Separated
Mother: Kimberly Lisa Williams (assumedly living)
Father: Jackson Alexander Williams (living)
Sibling: -----
Sibling: -----
Relevant Family Member: Jackson A. Williams, Father
Relevant Family Member: -----
Spouse/ Significant Other: -----
Children: -----

James's childhood is something of a distant nightmare for him. Born into a world of cold darkness, he only ever knew cold and hunger. His father did everything he could for him, taking care of him, feeding and clothing him, it just wasn't always enough. No one, including James, blamed him though. It was just too hard to keep up with a growing boy in world where humans were less than dirt. His mother didn't feel enough was being done for her personally; that too much was being lavished upon James. She left the night of James's third birthday, when she discovered her husband had saved up some of their money to buy James a pair of better fitting shoes. This left his father devastated, and himself in a state of confusion. James didn't understand why his mother had left. Later on when he was fourteen, old enough to understand the truth, he reasoned it was better that he never really knew such a cold hearted person. Around the time he was eight, him and his father were able to move up to level three where they currently reside. His father had realized that there was use for a medical person to assist in the injured miners down below, doing all the labor for the Dark Casters.

His father was born in St. Mary's, Georgia, during the spring of 1934 in the month of May. "It was on that glorious 4th day," he'd tell him, "that it rained all throughout my mother's labor. I gave her quite the fight and you gave your mother the same hell." James had always wondered how his parents met underground and how they decided to have a baby, or maybe they didn't plan it at all. His mother isn't often spoken of and so James doesn't know much about her history. However, unknown to James, his mother was actually born in St. Mary's as well and this was the initial factor that drew his parents together.

As James grew up, his father taught him everything that he could about medicine. An excellent artist, what he couldn't show in books he'd illustrate with paper and charcoal. James was an avid learner, but there was only so much knowledge he could gain. He worked more as a paramedic or physician's assistant than anything; understanding what and how to do things but not always knowing the why. Now as an adult, it has fallen to James to take care of his father. Using the knowledge he's taught him, James functions as the go to "doc" for his region. His "practice" functions as more of a side gig, given that humans are primarily used for manual labor. Three days a week you can find James in the mines, towing away like many of the other workers looking to stay out of the Dark Caster's sight. It isn't his favorite type of work, but he appreciates it. It gives him a bit of money and keeps him strong, something he has to be if he's going to outlive this horrible time. More than anything, he wants his father there beside him to see that day.

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Basic Information;
Full Name: Jaren Sven Hawk
Nicknames: Ren
Age: 26
Birth Date: 01/13/1988
Sex: Male
Ethnicity: White
Species: Human
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Religion: Jaren goes through the motions of religiously following Sarresephtis, but he does not truly believe in Sarresephtis in his heart. Growing up he heard stories of Evacskaldione. Though he believes that Evacskaldione is real, it is a seed of hope that burns deep in his heart. One he does not acknowledge even to himself.
Place of Birth: Level 3
Place of Residence: Level 3
Occupation: miner -- iron ore


Appearance;
Hair: long, messy, often covered with dirt or grim from his days, or are they nights, spent in the mines. His hair is thick, straight, cut at uneven lengths, since he doe sit himself. The strands are a mix of light pale brown and right golden blond. Making for a messy blond look.
Eyes: He has deep blue eyes, like two cold pieces of ice that are intently watching the world around him. Calculating and knowledgeable, hidden behind a cold and snarky humor.
Build: He is relatively tall at 6’2”. Has a generally well muscular build, not the type of muscular build one gets from working out, but the type of muscular build that comes from hard labour. The hard lean muscles that form from years of work. He weighs in at 175lbs.
Clothing&Style: a loose black t-shirt that has been sown back together so many times it’s more patch work then an actual T-shirt, but it’s his and he likes it. He has a pair of dark almost black jeans, stained and faded from use and time. A leather bracelet his brother Mekhi made from him when he was still alive, before the incident that changed Jaren’s life forever. Mekhi was everything to Jaren. He also has a faded friendship bracelet made of rose and yellow string that Isa made for him when he met her for the first and only time, she was 3 at the time. It doesn’t like like anything more then twisted pieces of strings with knots in it, but to Jaren it’s a reminder that somewhere not so far away he has family he loves even if he can never know them.

Jaren looks older then he is, having an appearance of a man well into his thirties even though he’s only 26 years old. Life has aged Jaren, making his view of the world more jaded. This shows in the faint lines of worry that creese his brows. The hard planes of his face and the neutral expression he always wears. Jaren has dark ice blue eyes that are like two cold slice of ice.

Jaren’s taste in clothing is simple. Worn out dark blue jeans and an equally worn black t-shirt. He’d rather spend his resources on his fiancé Josse then on himself. Those pieces of jewelry he has and wears are the things his family has given him. Though mostly the one that means the most to him is the simple leather band with a small symbol meticulously cut into it with a knife his brother made for him.

Jaren doesn’t much care for his appearance. He won’t spend time combing his hair for example, but he will take time to shave his beard. He won’t take time to go get someone to cut his hair, he’d rather just use a knife and be done. These sorts of little things that culminate to make Jaren’s overall appearance a little rugged and wild. Some might even go so far as to say unkept.

Personality;
Likes:

silence - something just as rare as peace ever was in Jaren’s home. Silence. It is something Jaren needs to survive. Time to think. Time to listen. Time to just be alone.
humming or singing - something he does mostly while he works. More often this is a sign that Jaren is happy.
Work - Work is something that was always to Jaren’s interest. It kept him busy, gave him a focus for his body and mind. The repetition of the work is something he enjoys as it frees his mind from constant focus. Jaren isn’t one for speed. He’s the slow steady mountain verses the fast moving stream. The deep thinker. One who enjoys stability and steadiness, but isn’t afraid to step in the way. In his own time.
Silence - oh wait I said that already, oh well we get the feel that it’s more important this way... Because Silence is amongst the things that Jaren treasure the most.
Peace - something that was rarely in Jaren’s house. With two older brothers and a young brother Jaren being caught in the middle often found himself in some form of fight with Skylar or Mark. The only one that Jaren rarely fought with was Mekhi. Thus when he can get a few moments silence and peace he takes them. That being said he’ll fight if it’s necessary.
Thinking - something that Jaren enjoys. Thinking about the world, how things work. Thinking about his future. Daydreaming about how things could have been, how his mom looked or would have if he’d known her, how she might have been...
Reading - something Jaren picked up from his fiancé Josse when they were younger, Jaren’s house of males was usually rambunctious and loud, two things Joren doesn’t like. This meant that any time he had to himself he enjoyed quiet pastimes. This is where he picked up reading from watching Josse doing it. This being a more intellectual thing it was frowned on by his father and thus drew Jaren even more.

Dislikes:

Noise, noise and more noise (point made) - for very much the same reason he likes silence he despises noise. Noise irritates him as he cannot focus on any deep thoughts in a noisy environment which is ironic since he’s a miner and enjoys the ambient noise of the mines.
Disruptions - Jaren likes to be able to do his work, or read, or whatever it is he is doing without interruption. He hates interruptions and will often make this fact known.
Conversations in which he is pressed to make a decision or come up with a solution - Jaren is a thinker. He likes to sit back and think. He does not like to make snap decision or find a solution right off the bat. He likes to take his time and slowly come up with a battle plan.
His older bother’s wife - when Jaren was fourteen he was lone at home with Mekhi. Jaren doesn’t know exactly what happened, but there was a fire. One he survived but Mekhi did not. Jaren was burned on his right shoulder and down his back, minor stuff, but enough to leave visible scars. Yet another reminder of that incident. Mark and Mekhi had been really close and Mark blamed Jaren for Mekhi’s death. Something that drove a permanent wedge between Mark and Jaren, but was made worse when Genevra entered the scene. Genevra took an instant dislike to Jaren, who was quiet and slow to action. Where Mark was fast and outspoken. The two are polar opposites and Genevra is manipulative. She manipulates her husbands moods into achieving her goals.
His status - though Jaren enjoys his work, he does not enjoy the unfairness of the system. He sees the problems with the way there is little to nothing for those lower and while those above have more and get to enjoy more. He wishes only to give more and better to his descendants when and if he has them.
The death of Mekhi - This is something that haunts his every waking nightmare. This one loss tossed all of Jaren’s world upside down and made him have to rethink everything he held dear. This was the moment where the boy became the man. Just as Mark blames him for Makhi’s death, silently so does Jaren blame himself.

Strengths:

Agreeable - Jaren is generally agreeable, he doesn’t go out of his way to befriend anyone, but he is easily likable.
Calm - Jaren is calm, sometimes to the point of being ‘slow to action’ but no one would accuse him of being rash. He likes to think things through before he makes a decision or choice.
Hard-working - Jaren would be considered hard working. Simple fact is he does. He works hard, is dedicated to his job, but Jaren is also a dreamer.
Patient - Jaren is patient. Hard not to be when he takes so long deliberating over decision. He doesn’t mind waiting, knowing that all things come about in their right time.
Quiet - Jaren is quiet, preferring to speak once he knows what he is going to say, rather then speaking hastily and regretting his words. Often makes him seem distant or shy. Quite to the opposite, he is neither shy nor distant, only quiet.

Weaknesses:

Cynical - Jaren is cynical about the world. His view on things can be dark. He doesn’t have faith in the world or in the system, believing it to be broken. Why else would there be such a divide between classes, but he can’t do anything about it. So he just shuts up and broods about it.
Moody - Jaren often appears moody, since he’s quiet a lot of the time he broods over many things, often finding reasons to brood.
Overcritical - Jaren thinks too much, this leads him to be overly critical of nearly everything. He can be a right pain sometimes when he sets his mind to it. Though not often since most of the time his views are kept internal. He doesn’t have a death wish after all.
Judgmental - Jaren is quick to judge. Being raised in a family where little was available and having little of material possession he quickly judges those who have such wealth and dislikes them innately.
Stubborn - Jaren is stubborn to a fault. When he sets his mind to something there isn’t a lot that will lead him to change it. He can be quite bull headed once he gets his movement going.

Habits:

- Humming, sometimes singing a tune. Most often it’s of his own make up and nothing common, though he loves a few good folk songs.
- Counting. Sometimes for no other reasons then to focus his thoughts he will count down from twenty. Take a deep breath and then open his eyes and find his focus.
- Silent staring. Jaren has a habit of silently staring at people who talk to much. Not saying a word. Just staring at them.

Quirks:

- lip bitting. Sometimes he’ll bite his lip when he’s deep in thought, or trying to process something.
running his hand through his hair. Something Jaren does when he’s nervous or uncomfortable.
- coin flipping. A small black disc made of unprocessed iron ore that Jaren has worn down over the years flipping it between his fingers. The disc originally stared as a particularly flat piece of raw ore that was black and small that he kept because it fascinated him, but the amount of times he’s handled the piece has worn it flat on two sides

Dreams: Jaren dreams of green open fields, large forests and rivers. Of the open air above the earth. Though he’s never seen these things outside of in pictures drawn in books or in his imaginations from the stories told to him and the writing he has red Jaren dreams of freedom.
Fears: Jaren’s darkest and deepest fear is being trapped in a cave in, or being burned alive.

Jaren is a silent type of guy. Outgoing in the sense that he is not shy. Slow to come to decisions and always wishing to take the time to think about things before he makes any kind of commitment. Jaren is a descent loyal friend who holds things close to his heart. He’s an open sort of guy who is very trusting and caring. He doesn’t make many friends, but he is easy to get along with. The only reason he finds himself more of a loner is because Jaren prefers silence and peace. Preferring activities that involve slow deep thoughts then anything rash or fast. Jaren dreams of a world where freedom exists. Jaren is stubborn and most often regarded as slow or dim witted because he takes so long to think things over before making a decision. This also gives him the appearance of a calm and indecisive individual.

History;
Parents' Marriage Status: Married
Mother: Ellie Bailey Hawk, deceased, Jaren never knew her as she died when Skyler was born and Jaren was only two years old.
Father: Robin Brayan Hawk, deceased, Jaren was always neutral towards his father. Half love and half hate. Robin was a hard man, who was harder on his kids, wanting them to achieve and remain out of trouble, unnoticed.
Sibling: Skyler Silas Hawk, younger brother, looks up to Jaren, Jaren doesn’t much care for his kid brother because their were so close in age.
Sibling: Mekhi Sergio Hawk, older brother, deceased, was his hero.
Sibling: Mack Arens Hawk, oldest brother, married, two kids, they don’t get along.
Relevant Family Member: Genevra Rose Hawk, married to Mack, mother of two, doesn’t approve of Jaren.
Relevant Family Member: Isa Ramona Hawk[5], Ceres Imogen Hawk[3] -- Genevra and Mack’s daughters, they never met Jaren. He’s only seen them both once when they were taken to see Robin before his death, just after Ceres’s was born.
Spouse/ Significant Other: Josslyn Yasmine Buttersworth
Children: none yet

Jaren was born on the 13 of January 1988 to Ellie Bailey Hawk and Robin Brayan Hawk, their third male child. Ellie had wanted a girl and died wanting one to her all male family. However Ellie loved her four male children even if she never got to know her youngest.

Ellie died when Skyler was born. Jaren was only two years old at the time and grew up without his mother. Robin was a miner and thus wasn’t home as often as he should be leaving Jaren mostly to the care of neighbouring woman and his oldest children Mekhi Sergio Hawk four years older then Jaren and Mark Arens Hawk ten years older then Jaren. Mark was strict and harsh on Jaren as he grew up expecting Jaren to act like Skyler and Mekhi, who were for lack of a better definition what you would typically expect from young boys. Loud, obnoxious, energetic and over-active. Jaren wasn’t this way. Jaren was calm. Silent and easy going. Preferring slower paced games, study or simply watching then to be running around screaming with sticks like his younger brother.

As Jaren grew up into his early adolescent years this love for quiet and thought only grew. This is when he met Josslyn the daughter of one of the woman who took care of the Hawk boys. Jaren had met Josslyn a few times when the two were younger, but it wasn’t until the two were older that they really began to talk. Josslyn had never really liked any of the Hawk boys, finding them too loud and brutish and assuming that Jaren was the same since she saw so very little of him.

Their first true encounter was rather by mistake, they ran into each other while Jaren was coming home from his first shift at the mine, he was sixteen years old and covered in dirt a wide satisfied smile had graced his features. Josslyn was sitting on a rock out near the path Jaren was taken and she was crying. Josslyn was fifteen a year younger then Jaren. Josslyn had been playing with her two older brothers when they had started to gang up on her and their game of kick had turned into terrorizing their sister. Josslyn had run away crying. Jaren had sat down next to her in silence at first and finally Josslyn had begun speaking and the two had spent the remainder of the evening before supper talking.

From that day forth Josslyn and Jaren had met after everyone of Jaren’s shifts in the mine in the exact same place. Josslyn was the one who got Jaren to open up about the loss of Mekhi, an event that Jaren had never spoken of to anyone before.

When Jaren was 24 his father Robin passed away at the age of 58, this was the first time that Jaren got to meet Isa and Ceres. Isa was 3 years old the first and only time he met her and Ceres was barely one-year-old. He holds their memory dear to his heart and fears that the rift between brothers has led to his permanent removal from their lives. It is a cause of great sadness within him.

When Jaren was three months into his 25th year of life he proposed to Josslyn. He knew he’d waited a very long time, but like all things that Jaren did he didn’t do anything quickly.

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