[Other] In The Eyes of Dreamers: Into the Tomb

[O2CXt3]

Veronica "Vee" Sinclair Name: Veronica "Vee" Sinclair Gender: Female Skills: Investigation, Persuasion Concept: A seasoned investigative journalist who’s lost her passion for the truth. She’s been chasing stories for years but now she finds herself stuck in the mundanity of clickbait articles and a series of unfulfilling relationships. Appearance: Vee is in her late 30s, with sharp features, and short cropped hair streaked with premature gray. She wears professional, but comfortable clothes. She’s 5’5” tall with a naturally thin build. Personality: Cynical, sharp-witted, and resourceful. Vee has a strong sense of justice and a knack for getting to the truth. She takes her work - or at least she used to - very seriously. When she was younger, her eyes had a glint of curiosity and skepticism, but over the years the curiosity has slowly turned to weariness. She has trouble sleeping at night and looks tired most days. Backstory: Vee grew up in a small town, always interested in what her neighbors were up to. She was the editor of her high school school newspaper and went on to study journalism at college. She made a name for herself as a journalist in Chicago, uncovering local corruption and scandals. But years of long hours and late nights are burning her out. Since graduating from school, she’s had a series of uninspired relationships. She recently broke up with her boyfriend of five years, Ryan, after a big fight, ostensibly because of the fight, but really it was because they had run out of things to talk about and she was tired of “dragging” him through life. He accused her of working too much, which was true, but what was she supposed to do? Quit her job? Her parents wouldn't leave her alone about having grandkids. She’d lost track of her friends from school. Most nights after work, she came home late, ate alone, watched TV, and went to bed. When she laid down in bed, she'd tell herself “I can’t do this anymore” and every morning she'd get up and do it again. RP Sample: Vee woke up to the sound of her alarm. Normally, that would be good, but last night she’d only slept about an hour. Another bad night. She hit her alarm and pulled her blankets up. Thirty seconds later - or what felt like thirty seconds later - the alarm was going off again. After a couple of rounds of this she knew she’d be late for work. She groggily kicked off her blankets and stumbled to the bathroom. It was going to be a bad day. In the shower, she just stood under the water. It took all her mental energy to go through the sequence of actions to wash herself. When she was done she couldn’t remember if she’d washed her hair. She pulled a short gray stand down to her nose and sniffed. It smelled clean. Oh well, good enough… she thought. As she got dressed and went through her morning routine, she slowly began to wake up. When she went to brush her teeth, she grabbed a tube off the counter, then realized something wasn’t quite right. Yes, the tube was definitely too firm. Hydrocortisone. Not toothpaste. She threw the tube back in its spot and fished a tube of toothpaste out of the old coffee mug that served as her tube-holder. I wonder what happens if you brush your teeth with hydrocortisone? she thought vaguely as she put the toothpaste on her toothbrush. Can’t be good. Probably not fatal though. I'm sure poison control gets lots of calls for that. She looked at the tube of toothpaste and its ingredients. Sodium Lauryl Sulfate, Glycerin, Hydrated Silica… None of that sounded very good for you either. Now THAT would be a story! She brightened for a moment as her mind wandered. Imagine if toothpaste has been slowly poisoning people all these years! She smiled at the thought. Just as her mind began to wander off on this tangent, a pin-prick of light caught her attention in her bathroom mirror. She blinked a couple of times at it. It didn’t go away. Oh no! she thought. This isn’t good. She yanked the toothbrush out of her mouth and began rubbing her eyes. She’d always known something like this would happen. She knew that visual hallucinations were a symptom of schizophrenia. Her mind had been unbalanced lately… and with the lack of sleep… She stopped rubbing her eyes and peaked through her fingers. She felt herself breathing in deeply, unconsciously gasping for breath. My god… she thought, and for a moment she forgot that she was going mad. It was so beautiful. The light was spreading slowly across the mirror, in shimmering waves, the outline burning white as it slowly expanded, and it framed outer space. Stars! Galaxies. It was so beautiful. So beautiful. A hazy thought drifted through her mind. Maybe going mad isn’t so bad. She reached out slowly with her hand to touch it and began to feel a pull. The mirror was drawing her in. I’ll be late for work… She let herself go. And for a moment everything went dark.

[DrewW]

Skills added, Leps.

[Red Leper]

Originally Posted by Hotshot lasgun

would you allow someone just out of basic? good control, discipline but ready to be forged into a warrior? basically hot metal ready to be quenched in water

Lets see an App and may the odd be ever in your favor.

[Red Leper]

Originally Posted by Tarus

Tentatively interested if there is still space in this one?

Of course, selections haven't been made yet so you are certainly welcome to throw your hat in the ring.

[kanly]

Skills added.

[Whovian]

Originally Posted by Red Leper

Of course, selections haven't been made yet so you are certainly welcome to throw your hat in the ring.

I am so sorry, but it absolutely pains me to have to apologize for my general lack in posting (updating) and retract my application. I was recently diagnosed with torticollis and can't stand to sit at my computer for more than 15 mins at a time. Unfortunately that essentially means that I just can't spend the time to complete the application process that I originally set forth. I truly wish you all the best in the, and of the, world in this endeavor!

[Red Leper]

Thank you for your well wishes, Whovian, it's too bad you have to withdraw but it's good to know your limits. I will likely see you in another game somewhere.

[Tacobob]

Sorry to hear that Whovian as I really liked your character and my character already had some random nickname for him. Hopefully you'll get better soon!

And I like the idea of someone who probably wasn't going to be the nicest guy in the group be in the group. So far I can see the others getting along well, holding hands and singing a song as they march through the enchanted, magical lands, "Far over the misty mountains cold....To dungeons deep, and caverns old...For ancient king, and elvish lordddddddddddd!"

[Amarga]

Mik Name: Mikail “Mik” Tsotsarov Gender: Male (He/him) Concept: A rough Chechen criminal with a violent past. Skills: Intimidation, Brawling Appearance: A bulky figure with a stony face, Mikail (or Mik as he is more commonly known) looks like he's lived a rough life. With a rough beard, a shaven head beneath an old toque, and numerous scars, Mikail looks like a vicious character. Even though his face is normally held in a calm repose, there is a subtle watchfulness betrays his violent life. A grin that, even when good natured, looks like murder, doesn't help with this. Even if someone still doubted his line of work, a black prison jumpsuit would mark him as someone to be careful around. Personality: Mik is a soul who has accepted his place in life. He doesn't think about the brutality of his actions, instead just carrying out his tasks with a calm confidence of a worker. Mik’s calm demeanor, however, is a river over deep waters. The sudden bouts of violence and vicious grin his lifestyle required distract from a man who has his own philosophy and resigned justifications for everything he does. Mikail enjoys country music, and has tried secretly to take up the guitar for a handful of years before his incarceration, trying his hand a few classic tunes. Mikail particularly hates it when people get hung up on the semantics, in his mind if something has to be done it is best to do it quickly and properly rather than agonizing over every issue that might spring from it. Backstory: Born to Chechen parents, Mikail grew up in a poor neighborhood and quickly found himself embroiled in criminal activities. When he joined a Chechen mafia, he proved to be an effective enforcer. The muscle to many operations, Mik spent years of his life beating messages from his superiors into people who couldn't or wouldn't work with words. This all came to a head when Mikail was on a job in Moscow, when a beating gone wrong turned into a murder that left Mik abandoned by his people to face justice. Since then, Mik has been spending the past three years of his life in prison, dealing with all the drudgery that entails until one day, something strange changed his fate… RP Sample: Mikail awoke with a yawn, swinging his legs off the top bunk to drop down and begin his day. His lower bunkmate, a new inmate who was sleeping off his first set of lessons, tossed over and groaned In his sleep. He had wanted to take Mik's top bunk, and Mik had seen to it that he didn't make that mistake again. Mik stepped out of the cell and began walking down to the washroom to begin the basic hygiene he had ensured he stuck to. He had seen other guys get out of prison with more teeth problems than he could count, and wasn't about to repeat their mistakes. As he walked, he nodded to some of the prisoners he had come to know over the years. A handful of them had been in the same group as Mik, and he made sure to always keep on their good side to shore up his chances of getting out. Not that he put much stock in that, he knew he was a hammer, and knew that his superiors had plenty of hammers they could use without bothering to get him out early. Still, it was something to do. Mik sighed and grabbed his toothbrush, dutifully scrubbing away before he went to the cafeteria for breakfast. He hoped it was something other than that porridge slop the cooks liked to make, if he had to eat that one more ti- A glitter in the mirror caught his eye. Mik spat out his toothpaste as the light grew brighter, squinted and turning around to see if he could find its source. Suddenly it flashed and expanded, and the thug threw up his arms, “What th-” The first thing Mik noticed was the heat. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight, looking around to try and gather his bearings. Mikail froze, stunned by what he was seeing, but slowly enough a brutal grin split his features. He was free. It didn't matter where he was, freedom was worth the heat. Besides, a free man can decide where to go next.

[Amarga]

Mik's ready to go, let me know if I need to tweak anything!

[OneDarkness]

character app Name: Tom Harker Gender: Male (He/him) Concept: A widowed orchardist and rancher Skills: survival/nature and carpentry Appearence Tom is certainly on the older side of things you would wager with the full greyness of his beard and the hair on his head with only a hint or the dark brown that he must have had in his youth. His skin is weather from long days in the sun and hard work, but the hard work has been good for him in other ways judging by the breadth of his shoulders and the bulge of his muscles. He has an easy smile and the blue of his eyes are still clear enough that he isn't ready for rocker on the porch for many years to come. Personality Tom is used to just doing what needs to be done and not one to complain or fuss about doing it, he grew up up on multi generational ranching farm and his father and grandfather were still working it when he struck out on his own. He has always been willing to help a neighbor or friend in need as long as they are willing to put in and help with the work as well, he has a soft spot in his heart for animals of all types and takes a dim view of those bully others or lazy good for nothings. He is much more at home in the open spaces of the country side than the hustle and bustle of the city streets, and in his few moments of relaxation he enjoys whittling and carving. Background The need to tend and harvest is deeply ingrained in Tom's blood, generations of Harker's have worked the land and trained plant and beast alike. Over the years the family branched out from your typical commercial farming operation to a more artisanal approach with a mix of a small herd of goats and cows that they run alongside various berry crops and some specialty spices that are used to make a whole range of high end boutique type food items. They took a direct hands on approach to much of the operation and spent long days tending the herd, managing the fields and crops and delving into the various artisanal markets available to them. Tom's mother was very much a numbers kind of woman and when she married into the family she took over much of the financial planning for the farm and combined with his father's jack of many trades approach made a good living on the farm and raised two boys and three girls in the process. Tom was your typical middle born child in many ways but given all of them were only about a year or so apart they all shared a fairly close bond, Tom was always a solid rock in the family well able to cross the divide between the older and younger siblings. He did well in schooling inheriting his mother's number sense and his father's gut instincts, working his way up to a masters in botany, and apply much of what he learned to the family business and meeting his future to be wife in the process. His wife Samantha, his wife, he met while travelling the small high end markets as she was a potter who made beautiful pottery pieces with an easy going spirit and boisterous laugh that Tom couldn't help but be mesmerized by. They would sit and have coffee after their booths were setup while waiting for the markets to be in full swing, and she enjoyed his passion for living things and he her whimsical stories of inspiration behind each of her pieces of work. A short six months later he had proposed and they had been happily married in the old apple orchards on the family farm, not far from the quaint woodsy cottage that he helped build for their life together, and would eventually raise two children of their own Jenny and Ben. The next twenty years seem to just fly by, before the unthinkable happened and Samantha was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and despite their best efforts to fight it she lost the battle about two years ago and passed away peacefully at her home. It was a difficult time for Tom but he got through with the help of his children and family, and while he still misses her greatly he is for most part back to his normal self in many ways. RP Sample The sun was barely peeking up along the edge of the horizon as Tom leaned against the post of his deck drinking his still steaming cup of coffee, it had all the makings of another beautiful summer day and the light breeze rustling the tree leaves was simply the icing on the cake in his mind. "Well Loki shall we go take a stroll among the trees and see how the fruit is coming along, but I think i better get me refill before we head out." Loki, a black lab sitting patiently near the top of the stairs leading down on to the grass, looked back at him and wagged his tail but didn't move know there wasn't a rush till Tom actually started moving towards the stairs and watched the birds flying around while he waited for Tom to get his refill and get ready for the day. Putting his thermos under the coffee maker he pushes a couple buttons and heads off to the bathroom to brush his teeth and finish getting ready to check on the trees and work on his new plantings, brushing away on his teeth he notices a brighter than usual spot of light upon the mirror which is odd as the bathroom window was to the left of sink and shouldn't hit upon the mirror at all, then as it expands across the reflective surface he finds himself frozen in place mesmerized as a galaxy of starts unfolds before him. "Samantha....."

[Red Leper]

Hey everyone!

The deadline will be Monday the 26th, as my vacation from work starts that day. I know it's short notice but at the point, anyone who has at least a little bit of an app submitted will have the a few days to complete it, but no new applicants will be allowed to submit.

[Red Leper]

Five hours and counting.

[OneDarkness]

You can go ahead and mark mine as complete

[Red Leper]

Thank you, Onedarkness! That's a good application.