Roleplay

I'll add an intro in the morning... most probably. I lied

Character from:
Name:
Nickanme: (if applicable)
Age:
Gender:
Height:
Personality:
Appearance:
Quirks:(I mean, this can obviously be RPed out)
Weapons: (can be either futuristic, modern, or old fashioned, it's really up to you)
Extra:
Occupation/role: (rebel, government officer, soldier, etc.)
@Ghostray

@FaeDream Character from: Name: Isadro Nickanme: Isa Age: 23 Gender: Male Height: 6'0 Personality: He's rather quiet and skittish, although he can be bold and brave. A dreamer and artist where art was no longer appreciated as much. Although sometimes he's a odd character not someone you'd forget easily even if he did blend into the background Appearance: Tan and well muscled, with thick fluffy black hair that falls over his eyes. Having one yellow eye and one light blue eye, As he always wears is a black tee that clings to his broad shouldered frame, with dark green camo pants with black lace up boots. For his uniform he just wears a black armored coat, that could be zipped and unzipped like any other jacket. Unlike most people of this era he was tattoo free. Tattoos were on almost everyone, to not have one is tabbo. He drew his tattoos on paper. Long spiraling stories that filled every page front and back never leaving a space untouched. He never desired or would tell his story on his skin, he let his scars do that, besides he would run out of skin to tell his story on as well. [img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/df/2e/8c/df2e8cd92142a3fc84915afbf4a6bac6.jpg[/img] (Sort of like this, his hair, and facial features, although with more of a down turned smile and less of a bright look to his eyes. And imagine the hair black, he also doesn't really have a beard it's just stuble or nothing at all. He can't really grow a beard) Quirks:(I mean, this can obviously be RPed out) Some will be rp'd out, some will be told. Doesn't have tattoos and he has trouble looking people in the eyes. Weapons: Dagger, and duel handguns. Sometimes on patrols he'll have a ak47 across his back as he was new so he got older weapons, while during patrols on sensitive areas he had his duel hand guns and two katanas on his back made from bullet proof steel. Extra: Tattoos were on almost everyone, to not have one is tabbo. He drew his tattoos on paper. Long spiraling stories that filled every page front and back never leaving a space untouched. Occupation/role: new soldier

Name: Xander Hoff Nickanme: Xan (Z-ah-n) Age: 21 Gender: Male Height: 5' 10" Personality: He has an extremely wry sense of humour and is what i like to call an optimistic realist. He's extremely charismatic and seems to be very trusting, even though he really isn't. He hides all his feelings behind some form of joke or smile, and barely anyone is able to realise that he isn't just happy-go-lucky 24/7. He doesn't really believe in the rebellion but he figures it's better than what it's like now. He's really good at reading people. Appearance: He has sandy blond hair which usually stands up in an intentional style, it only ever flops into his face when he's tired, drunk, or very very surprised. The sides are shorter than the top which is actually quite long. He has high cheekbones and large, almost puppy like dark brown eyes, which a lot of the times look black. His style choice isn't the best as he wears a ripped up sleepless t-shirt with some old band's logo on it, jeans, a tool belt, fingerless gloves, and has a bandage wrapped around one wrist. (he sometimes uses this bandage to tie back any hair that happened to fall into his face. He also wears A black ear-cuff thing on his left ear and short black combat boots. He's also pretty lean,making him appear somewhat younger than he actually is. [img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/b9/e9/27/b9e927914a134d12d2ee73b003b2a134.jpg[/img] (Ooh, I got it!) (Basically the face structure and hair, though that expression and pose aren't really him) Quirks:Most will be rp'd out, some will be told. All I can really say is he has a lot of nervous habits... Weapons: This extendable staff thing, which has overlapping metal points leading up to form a point. Electricity can be stored in it to deliver a shock to someone or even knock them out if the user desires. Extra: So he has this steampunk wing pack, so he can fold and unfold them just like real wings, but he can also hide them inside the pack so it looks like a normal, albeit highly advanced, backpack. He also has a strange tattoo on his wrist which he usually hides by wrapping bandages around it. Occupation/role: He's pretty high up in the rebel ranks, like third or second in command, though a lot of the other rebels don't like him as much as they should, for reasons to be RP'd out. He's not usually at the rebel bases either which is probably how he would be caught. (I was thinking they meet because Xan does something dumb like infiltrating a government training camp on his own and he gets captured and then Isa has to guard his cell or captures him or something...)

(Seems good, sorry for not responding I hadn't starred the thread yet. Also I hope you didnt mind me posting a post. You could probably do a ~Before this even happened~ and then skip to present time. It's what I do a lot in writing my stories.)

He'd been minding his own business. A pleasant evening when he got called to his platoon captain. "Isadro. Look at me when I'm speaking."
"Yes sir." Raising his head to seem like he was looking at him but he actually wasn't, his eyes were just partially off looking behind him.
"In my eyes. Isadro. If you continue this nonsense you'll be put in isolation."
Finally he looked in his eyes, not wanting isolation. 'yes, sir."
"Good, now. we've had a infiltration, and because you were too busy not going off your post like I ordered you not to. You wouldn't know. Since your parents were apart of the rebel group, I'm sure you'll be able to find the infidel just fine. Now, won't you, Isa?"

"Jackson. You and Isa will be scouting for the infidel. If you find him. Capture him and since Isa was late to know he'll have to be on cell duty for the night, and you'll make sure he gets there. We don't need him running again. You hear me?" His eyes scanning both of them, their eyes blank as they stared ahead waiting for their order to go on. His eyes lingered a bit too long on Isa's mismatched eyes he couldn't help it. They were strange.

"You hear me?"

"Sir, yes sir." they repeated in sync.

"Good, now move out." He abruptly turned and made his way into the headquarters. The boys in his platoon were well trained. They wouldn't eat if unless told too. They would work until they dropped dead or were told to stop. Perfect soldiers. Although Isa was a problem, his mind was to creative you could see it in his eyes. He was briming with old era imagination, and that was a crime. So he made and exception, only Isa could draw. Only Isa could write, as long as he hid it, and he would not defend Isa nor was Isa to say he had allowed him to do such taboo things. Only civilians should have it, even then. They were supposed to use it in their work, not for free time hobbies, the ones who did. They were put in a mental ward and retrained. Drained of all their creativity. That was the way it should be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Isa and Jackson walked side by side their eyes watching each others weak spots and surroundings. Every now and then jackson would kick his leg to snap him out of his creative state. All of them knew of Isa's drawing and writings while in the bunk, they would hear him in their sleep drawing all over the paper what he would never draw on his skin. Jackson had dared to open up the drawing pad and found no page drawn on was left blank, if it was blank patterns filled it in. It was like a endless world and it entranced him. For the first time he had truly fallen in love with Isa's abiltiy.

Although Isa had grown pale when he found out and hidden it even better the next time. He had yet to find it again, although the they had become friends. His eyes scanned the grounds briefly spotting movement.
"Isa, you think that's the infidel?"
Isa's eyes trailed to where he was looking, "maybe, I suggest we take a look. You know how he gets when we miss something."
"A monster."
"I thought you didn't dare speak of such things." Isa gave him a wry smile although it didn't reach his eyes.
"You see them though, in the world and in here." He lightly touched Isa's head. "You let them control you from the inside out."
"So what if they do?" Speaking as they walked.
"It means you hold something different, I'm surprised he didn't put you into the ward to retrain you to get rid of it." Jackson spoke quietly.
"They tried, and failed. It's a permanent corner stone. This was the only job I could get, as you know most people...don't exactly hire people like me especially when paired with the imagination and creativity."
"I forgot you didn't swing the way the government says you should. But do not speak of it, they'll know and execute you if someone else not me hears. They already know but I'm no one important so they don't care."
"They'll care when you become blatantly obvious, Isa."

From the lighting it would be assumed Isa must be a female as the nickname 'Isa' was seen as feminine. however they were close enough by the time the conversation was over that it was clear both were male. Isa's eyes down cast as they noticed the faint foot prints. "Think they're still around?"

(Will do. Also I don't mind! Question: Would you like someone to come and break him out, he break out and take Isa, or Isa help him get out because Xan has corrupted him?)

Some would probably wonder how Xander Hoff, a rebel who had been part of this rebellion since child hood, had come not to care about said rebellion and had wandered off on his own. Wandered as far as inside of a government training facility, because that was just something he did apparently.

New recruits wouldn't get it. The wouldn't get how one of the high-ups in the rebellion was so young, they wouldn't get how he was always laughing and smiling, and they certainly wouldn't get why you only ever saw him when he was in trouble (a regular occurrence) or when he was required for a mission

The old recruits already knew, the ones that had been there since the beginning or soon after. Xan had been there for 15 years, thrust in at the mere age of six. Even back then he had an intelligence which would rival all the rebels from the working class easily, and that intelligence grew. Unfortunately, so did his independence.

So that was probably why after three or so days of wandering, bored out of his mind, Xan found himself breaking into a government training camp.

Xan would like to say the camp was hard to get into, that the government was a worthy adversary. However, in all honesty, this camp didn't seem to be the highest concern for them. Then again, they probably weren't expecting anyone to be so blatantly idiotic as to break in.

All he had to do was unfurl the large mechanical wings on his back, the slight whirring making him smile as the worn gears turned and the razor sharp metal feathers ruffled in the wind. Despite being metal, it was extremely light weight, made out of a hard to make alloy which weighed about as much as a real feather.

He stretched his arms as he moved the wings about on his back, they were connected to his brain so they felt like an extension of his body. The wings had been hard to get and it had been a slim chance that they'd bond with him, but they had, making it so only he or someone who he gave permission to, could use them.

He flapped once experimentally before running and leaping straight at the wall. He caught a slight updraft and zoomed up wards, expertly navigating the wind channels and flapping only when needed, as he glided over the wall.

The feeling of flying is an amazing one, one which Xan barely got to experience despite the wings affixed to his back. Today that feeling was over all too soon as he landed and folded the wings back in, making them small and barely noticeable.

He rubbed a thumb n the bandages on the other wrist, doing so subconsciously as he started to walk. He scanned his surroundings with a trained ease, noticing the distinct lack of trees and the sheer number of barracks. One tent in particularly caught his eye as he treaded carefully across the soft ground.

He checked his surroundings once more before willing the wings to unfold again and "hopping" onto the to of the tent, balancing expertly on the wooden beam running through the top. He kept the wings out this time as he watched two figures with interest. Without him knowing, the wings curled around him, hiding everything except for the slight smile on his face, in shadows.

He could hear snippets of their conversation as they started to walk over and he stilled, wondering if they were looking for him. One of them seemed to be called Isa, and Xan furrowed his brow upon hearing so, wondering if they were a female.

As they got closer it was revealed that both were males, though in the dim lighting plus the shadow being cast by his wings, he couldn't exactly tell what either of them looked like. Oh and his bad eyesight probably played a part, He could see things far away just fine, in sharp focus even, to an extent that surprised everyone. Though it shouldn't he was the hunter of the night, he needed to see his prey when it's far away.

When people got close however, he couldn't see the details he normally would be able to, unless they were only a foot away, then somehow is eyesight came back. He had glasses, but had accidentally left them at one of the bases when he left.

"Think they're still around?" One of the males, what had the other one called him? Isa? asked his counterpart and Xan tilted his head, it would be dumb to respond, as far as they knew he could be on the other side of the camp. He could be escaping and disappearing into the endless back of the night.

But Xan, for all his intelligence, was the type to make snippy comments even in the most dire of situations, "Oh certainly sugar." He called in a hushed voice, a slight southern twang colouring his words though it was hard to notice. An accent of the old world, he got called out on it often enough considering how uncommon it was to find someone with it.

He grinned down at them from his perch on the tent, everything hidden in shadow except for his grin as he waited for their reactions.H9is wings rose up behind him before curling forwards again, making him look much bigger than he actually was.

(Someone could break him out and proably knock Isa unconscious and xan decides to take him.)

Isa jumped and almost did a runner. But Jackson grabbed him around his waist and held him while he struggled not saying anything. He knew Isa was skittish and it was proably die to the trauma of losing his parents and their teaching style to enforce their ideas of the rebellion. But the idea also flickered that maybe it also had to do with the governments policies.

The odd thing was that whenever he was in battle which they were a lot as it was a training ground. He never shied away, just pure utter determination not a ounce of fear, yet the draw backs were you couldn't startle him or else he'd run and hide. And he too good at that he had disappeared for 2 days and was found in a small storage closet, that was too small to even fit him, and he was panting with his eyes wide and unblinking.

Eventually Isa had calmed down which was only a few seconds and he pulled out of jacksons arms raising his bullet proof katana mismatched eyes Landing on nothing but he found where the voice came from his eyes never once leaving him. "You have no reason to be here. You will be punished now." Jackson had taken the time to walk around silently with a capture net, see another unconscious talent of Isa's was that it was al too easy to get lost in his eyes.

(Alright)

Xan tilted his head and let out a soft chuckle. Someone, this chuckle didn't sound impudent or condescending, in fact it sounded just a tad bit tad if you looked past the fact that he was even laughing int he first place. It was almost self-deprecating in a respect as he stared at Isa.

His eyes really were quite interesting and Xan felt a strange urge to get closer and see them in as much detail as he could. Even though he was probably the most reckless of the rebels, he was not that dumb, much to his annoyance as he finally spoke up, "Punished?" He was straightening slowly, trying to pull himself away from Isa's gaze, though it was hard to look away and even harder to leave without investigating further. "How exactly do you think you're going to punish me, Honey?"

Hadn't there been a second one here? Or had that just been Xan's imagination?

Suddenly he gave this smile that seemed to know it all and his eyes fluttered shut briefly. "I am only a foot soldier however. You'll be dealing with the higher ups now and me cause I'm on jail time!~" Mock excitement in his voice, it sounded so innocent and happy. Yet when Jackson fired the net it was only a whoosh and it wrapped around him almost instantly. It tangled around the wings and the hardened into a metal like substance. There hadn't even been a warning when it was fired. It was enough to knock him off the stranger off his perch.

Jackson jogged around and planted his foot on the boys back attaching a chain that went around the netting in a x shape. "Your to child-like Isa. It's always the eyes, they never get tired of em'."
Isa huffed and looked away.
"Maybe I don't want to be seen as some object because of my eyes. I don't like being just a number, Jackson. Maybe your happy with it but I'm not."
Jackson sighed and shook his head as he lifted the infidel and began to walk. Isa followed in time with him and his footsteps. "And this is why your in jail duty, Isa. Not to mention the fact of your illegal habits."
"Just because I'm gay and draw and write doesn't mean I'm a bad soldier, Jackson."
"To them it is, besides your so skittish it's amazing how you got here. So flighty like a bird."
Once more Isa huffed and looked away for only a moment, "I didn't exactly get here by choice, there was nothing else left."
"Besides shouldn't you get a tattoo? Your like a Virgin in skin and body."
"No, I don't need one and I don't want one If you want to my story you better have the guts to ask me." A slight harsh tone to his voice ending the conversation

Well that had been a surprise, so much so that Xan has squawked slightly as the metal wrapped around his wings and he fell. He twisted his body so he wouldn't land face first, instead taking the brunt of the fall which his shoulder. Said shoulder then started to pulse with pain, which was quite annoying.

He listened with curiosity to their conversation, narrowing his eyes slightly as he absorbed the information. The walking made him bounce up and down, jostling his shoulder slightly over and over again, much to his annoyance. As they talked he considered not saying anything and appearing meager, but he doubted he would be able to pull it off for more than one minute.

"Well, that was certainly an interesting way to catch a man!" He called, his voice much too jovial and bouncing for someone who was currently trussed up like a turkey on thanksgiving. A holiday which had long since been abandoned, food was already too scarce for that.

He figured he would coax the Isa fellow into talking when he was int he cell, after all, he had mentioned that he would be guarding Xan.

He burned red and shook his head. "I don't intend to 'catch' someone. I'll just be forced to pair with another female. So don't speak as if I have a choice." Huffing as he lightly elbowed his bad shoulder, "and I'll do it again if need be." Giving him a look that tried to be a glare but end up as a face that didn't know quite what to do in this situation. Jackson just raised a brow an sighed.

"Don't let him get to you, Isa besides there waiting. They'll be ready to talk to him when he's in a cell."

Isa frowned but shook his head, he never looked good with a frown he looked best with a smile even if he rarely ever did. "I suppose I'll have to deal with being chewed out?"
"No, they found the ones who went of their posts where he got in. So, they're being punished."
"What a tradgedy." Clearly no sympathy in his voice for the unfortunate souls.