•Rules: No insults, homophobia, politics, or religious stuff. I want respect for one another here. •This OC is part of my CoD AU where there is also magic, but the interaction with the normal universe is more than welcome!
"It's my fault that magic came into this universe... it's my fault that people in this world had to adapt... I'm sorry...But I swear to try to protect you all and drive away all the magic."
Mod:
Welcome to this blog! Thanks for checking out this post; I'll be quick with the introduction.
C. is the name of a character of mine that I often use in all the "universes" that interest me, but despite this, she is now part of the CoD world.
Yes, her name is simply C. She is a seemingly young girl, who carries the weight of many decades as a witch. The characteristic of his powers is that they are a light green color and to put it briefly, he can use it as telekinesis or more simply energy creation. (I swear I'll explain better).
• Reference sheet: --------------------
• Name: C.
• Sign name: Emerald
• Nationality: Italian (maybe), British
• Age/high/hair: 22 yo (220), 1,63 cm, short and brown, with two Light green locks.
• Sexuality: bisexual (more into men)
• Team Membership: 141 (magic assistant), Captain of the magical special squad.
• Her personality: Confident, but awkward. She's ironic, and even the most serious conversations can become a source of awkwardness. But when it comes to concentration, it does its job well.
• She likes: 141. She has a very strong relationship with them. The first time they met, she helped them with Makarov. (in this universe Soap is not dead). She often plays basketball with Gaz and has drunk the best teas with Ghost. The relationship with Price is special, she likes him a lot, in every sense, but perhaps they can't see each other in any way other than as colleagues. (But they had moments of "more than friends"). She also enjoys studying and training in magic. She also uses it during her off-duty hours, which she should probably avoid.
• She doesn't like: Know-it-all people and disrespect. Even though she is a docile and seemingly carefree person, she notes everything and acts accordingly. She doesn't like firearms, in fact she uses very few. The only ones she uses are those she creates with magic, but even then she uses a staff. (Her main weapon is a scythe.)
---------other info----------
° Roles
° Powers analysis (Need updates)
This is how she looks (◕ᴗ◕✿)
Do I really have to write about not stealing my character? Oh well...
C was training alone with her magic. It had been a stressful day, dealing with her team, and teaching them how to use their powers was more tiring than she'd thought. She handled the magic staff with brute elegance. She used those moments to vent, not letting her emotions interfere with everything else.
Sometimes she couldn't.
One thing she couldn't stand was when people were two-faced and tried to belittle you in every way, to make you look small. And on her team there was a soldier like that. Stacy. She couldn't stand her, but she had to.
At the thought of that girl, C tried to chase away what was troubling her by moving even faster, letting the staff float beneath her hands, But when her anger peaked, she threw it forcefully in an inaccurate spot and almost took someone.
When she realized this, she came to her senses and approached worriedly.
"Oddio... I'm sorry. You're ok?"
@c-thesoldierwitch
(hey! Hope is ok to rp! I know he's a weird character xD, I hope that's not a problem.)
Clover had been working on training the recruits on basic CLS. Usually a proper course was given by the dedicsted medics but she was going to give them the bare bone minimum and practice the most basic yet crucial techniques. As usual the training ground was packed with various groups training on different things. Clover ignored this matter and focused in on training her group of recruits. During the presentation Clover was explaining the importance of a tourniquet, how to use, and when to use. As she was looping it over her arm to demonstrate how to apply one, the whizzing of the staff pierced her ears. A plume of dust enveloped her as the recruits let out squacks of suprise as they watched in, shock and curiosity. As the dust settled Clover still remained in place. A rather pissed off look on her face. The staff had near missed from impaling right through her skull. A large cut ran across her cheek as blood dribbled down the fresh cut.
Immediately Clover glared at the offender for the incident. The Captain of the magic squad... @c-thesoldierwitch. Her eyes narrowed into a sharp glare as they approched asking her if she was okay. Clover remained quiet scrutinizing the young Captain as she reached up and grabbed the staff impaled into the wall. With a tight grip and harsh tug, she managed to yank the staff out from the wall before holding it out to the Captain.
"I suggest you focus on creating a proper example for your squad ma'am."
Clover lowly spoke as she reached her arm up and wiped the blood onto her uniform sleeve. Smearing the fresh red as she tilted her head at the witch.
"If you're allowing yourself to be a volatile risk. All you're going to do is cause a real fucking incident in the future. Or to those chucklefucks with their newly obtained powers."
Clover scolded the woman despite C being of higher rank.
As soon as C approached her, she froze. She had expected this reaction, and as soon as she noticed the cut she'd made on her cheek, she cursed herself.
"Yes...forgive me." Despite her guilt, C answered firmly. The staff she had returned to her vanished from her hand in a small green cloud. "I'll be more careful." C knew her. Or at least she had heard of her. Sergeant Clover. They were about the same height, which allowed her to see her face.
Her dark hair framed her pale skin, and her narrow brown eyes gave her a menacing look. Especially now. What made her most special were the two moles under her eye and near her mouth. She was a beautiful girl, that was indisputable.
She looked at the recruits who were there, waiting for something. Then she looked closer at what they were doing. Basic CLS.
"I'll leave you to your course." C raised her hands and took a few steps back to go away and continue her training, but before she started practicing any more magic further away, she waved a hand, A small green aura around it and a low pronunciation.
"Eira." And the wound on Clover's pale cheek vanished as quickly as it had appeared. A small quick-healing spell that only worked on the smallest wounds.
"I swear the people on my team are good, not assholes." A smug grin. C wasn't one to pick fights, she accepted rebukes and kept quiet, but it was stronger than her not to give veiled answers.
Hellllooo everyone! It's Amae, the creator of @colonel-valentino and @medic-petra. I've decided I would make a blog for my self insert OC, Leon because why the hell not? Probably gonna use this as a self indulgent thing for scenarios.
RULES FOR RP:
1. NSFW: No NSFW please. This guy is a minor, so I would appreciate if the asks were more funny or something more innocent. Though I might put a few dirty remarks every now and then, it's just his sense of humor.
2. Creator/Me: I don't mind if you talk to me in brackets for info, criticism or recommendations but flirting or moves made towards me won't be tolerated as I am a minor behind this lad.
3. Anything real world related/politics: Keep it far from me.
4. Minors: Y'know what? I'll say this is a safe place for y'all. It's gonna be a place of shitposting, teenage humor and god knows what else, so feel free to interact. If you'll want some fanfic written that's like family or being friends, I'll gladly write it.
Also, the fam:
@colonel-valentino - step dad, love him
@medic-petra - auntie, love her, indulges my interest in medicine and the human body.
Also CW: mentions of SH scars
Here's info about the lad:
Name: Leon Price
Age: 16
Gender: AFAB, Genderfaun
Nationality: British
Ethnicity: British
Birthday: 30.4.2010
Sexuality: Bisexual
Body apperance:
Height: 5'5"
Body type: Square, broad-ish shoulders
Weight: 71 kg
Skin color: Ivory
Hair and eyes:
Hair: Medium long and all over the place, cut into a mullet that's he's growing out to have a rat tail
Hair color: Brown
Eyes: Glasz with bags under them.
He wears glasses.
Distinguishing marks:
Scars: He has SH scars from the past on his wrists and forearms.
Glasses: Prescription for his near sightedness.
Personality:
He's an extrovert who became an introvert from people trauma. He's closed off, silent and sometimes irritable around people he hates or doesn't know but absolutely loud, cheerful and talkative around those he loves and trusts.
Likes: Drawing, writing, dancing, anime, plushies, hanging out with friends, family and the team. Sometimes likes to get on people's nerves.
Dislikes: People treating him like he's not human or an object they can order around, egotistical and narcissistic people, being in situations he can't escape.
Medical record:
Physical health: Healthy, a bit chubby but pretty strong.
Mental health: Diagnosed with Asperger's, shows a few signs of Depersonalization-derealization disorder.
On going tests: N/A
Service record: N/A, so here's his other things.
Affiliations: TF-141 and ally teams, Captain John Price's kid.
Clothing:
Civilian: Usually wears casual and comfortable things.
During the summer: T-shirt or tanktop, shorts, sandals or crocs.
During winter: Thick hoodie, sweatpants, boots.
Tags!
#Amae's-ranting: Just me making posts every now and then about thoughts.
#Leon's-life: Might upload little tid bits of his lore in drawings or things like a written down thing.
Albie lays on the common room couch, half awake with exhaustion littered all over his body, muscles aching as he sits alone, eyes closed and legs sprawled over the couch.
He checks the TV, switching through channels before he hears someone coming in the main door. Curious, he perks up and looks at them, then flops back down. "You want me or are you bored too?" He asks, watching a random channel of god knows what. Some footie game.
He huffs and keeps hoarding the couch, switching through the shitty channels. "Nice." He hums and moves his legs to make room for her on the arm rest. "Right now I am trying to steer my brain away from something you don't need to know about." He answers her and keeps changing channels. "Why does this shit always suck?!" He groans out and turns the TV off, putting the remote down.
C sat on the armrest watching the programs change so quickly you couldn't even tell what they were showing.
"But you don't even give them time to show you what they're offering!" With a gesture she brought the remote control to her hand and, sighing, switched to the first available channel. "Let's see what they're showing on TV."
As she changed channels less quickly than Chaser, she thought about his words. "I hope that thing eating your brain isn't a curse." C commented ironically, knowing full well that he wouldn't tell her about it.
He sighs heavy and lays his head down, not even interested in watching the TV anymore, moreso daydreaming whime his hands shake in withdrawl. He grumbles to C. "I'm gonna... Pop to the bathroom." As he gets up, his shaky hands catch her eyes, and red scratched neck follow right after in her vision.
"Hey. "What did you do to your neck?" She said vaguely, looking at Chaser and the TV. He was much more interesting now.
""Any missions that didn't go so well?" The tone was light. C admitted that she hadn't missed the trembling of his hands, but maybe it was just her imagination.
"Nothin wrong with it.." He mumbles and moves his hair to cover the burning red scratch marks that are quite hard to miss. "I'm fine, C." He grumbles and leaves the room, rubbing his neck a little roughly whilst mumbling to himself. As he walks off, his legs are a little shaky too, and it's clear that something is definitely bothering him.
She watches him leave in silence. The TV is still playing in the background. Honestly, she wasn't the one who insisted. She'd stopped doing it. If someone didn't want to talk, who was she to insist? But when the evidence was clear, she almost felt compelled.
With a sigh, she turned off the TV and put down the remote. She wiped the towel around her neck, still slightly damp, and followed the lieutenant.
"Come on, Lieutenant. What's weighing on your soul? I can feel something's wrong." C. came up beside him. "Magic, remember? She joked.
He sighs loudly and tries to cover up the scratch marks, slipping into the male bathroom and locking the door behind him before a thunk of his head hitting the door is audible. "Go away, C... Go bother someone else. Fighting addiction here." He reveals and goes silent, a small beep following before the low noise of breathing fills the space around them.
C sighed in annoyance, but let it go. She leaned her back against the bathroom door and looked at the wall in front of her.
"And you think you're going to deal with this in the bathroom? Alone?" An addiction is always difficult to deal with and C thought it involved alcohol or smoking. She refused to think of anything else.
"Tell me it's not drugs because I wouldn't feel like reporting it to you." The voice outside the bathroom door was muffled, but it was clear. C also thought that if she had wanted, she could have even broken down the door.
Okay, she hadn't expected the knock at the door. She moved away, but remained there, staring at the rectangle that separated them. C was silent for a moment, she looked down and nodded to herself.
"Talking about it can help, you know?" It was just a statement. Then she stood there, waiting for something.
Albie lays on the common room couch, half awake with exhaustion littered all over his body, muscles aching as he sits alone, eyes closed and legs sprawled over the couch.
He checks the TV, switching through channels before he hears someone coming in the main door. Curious, he perks up and looks at them, then flops back down. "You want me or are you bored too?" He asks, watching a random channel of god knows what. Some footie game.
He huffs and keeps hoarding the couch, switching through the shitty channels. "Nice." He hums and moves his legs to make room for her on the arm rest. "Right now I am trying to steer my brain away from something you don't need to know about." He answers her and keeps changing channels. "Why does this shit always suck?!" He groans out and turns the TV off, putting the remote down.
C sat on the armrest watching the programs change so quickly you couldn't even tell what they were showing.
"But you don't even give them time to show you what they're offering!" With a gesture she brought the remote control to her hand and, sighing, switched to the first available channel. "Let's see what they're showing on TV."
As she changed channels less quickly than Chaser, she thought about his words. "I hope that thing eating your brain isn't a curse." C commented ironically, knowing full well that he wouldn't tell her about it.
He sighs heavy and lays his head down, not even interested in watching the TV anymore, moreso daydreaming whime his hands shake in withdrawl. He grumbles to C. "I'm gonna... Pop to the bathroom." As he gets up, his shaky hands catch her eyes, and red scratched neck follow right after in her vision.
"Hey. "What did you do to your neck?" She said vaguely, looking at Chaser and the TV. He was much more interesting now.
""Any missions that didn't go so well?" The tone was light. C admitted that she hadn't missed the trembling of his hands, but maybe it was just her imagination.
"Nothin wrong with it.." He mumbles and moves his hair to cover the burning red scratch marks that are quite hard to miss. "I'm fine, C." He grumbles and leaves the room, rubbing his neck a little roughly whilst mumbling to himself. As he walks off, his legs are a little shaky too, and it's clear that something is definitely bothering him.
She watches him leave in silence. The TV is still playing in the background. Honestly, she wasn't the one who insisted. She'd stopped doing it. If someone didn't want to talk, who was she to insist? But when the evidence was clear, she almost felt compelled.
With a sigh, she turned off the TV and put down the remote. She wiped the towel around her neck, still slightly damp, and followed the lieutenant.
"Come on, Lieutenant. What's weighing on your soul? I can feel something's wrong." C. came up beside him. "Magic, remember? She joked.
He sighs loudly and tries to cover up the scratch marks, slipping into the male bathroom and locking the door behind him before a thunk of his head hitting the door is audible. "Go away, C... Go bother someone else. Fighting addiction here." He reveals and goes silent, a small beep following before the low noise of breathing fills the space around them.
C sighed in annoyance, but let it go. She leaned her back against the bathroom door and looked at the wall in front of her.
"And you think you're going to deal with this in the bathroom? Alone?" An addiction is always difficult to deal with and C thought it involved alcohol or smoking. She refused to think of anything else.
"Tell me it's not drugs because I wouldn't feel like reporting it to you." The voice outside the bathroom door was muffled, but it was clear. C also thought that if she had wanted, she could have even broken down the door.
Albie lays on the common room couch, half awake with exhaustion littered all over his body, muscles aching as he sits alone, eyes closed and legs sprawled over the couch.
He checks the TV, switching through channels before he hears someone coming in the main door. Curious, he perks up and looks at them, then flops back down. "You want me or are you bored too?" He asks, watching a random channel of god knows what. Some footie game.
He huffs and keeps hoarding the couch, switching through the shitty channels. "Nice." He hums and moves his legs to make room for her on the arm rest. "Right now I am trying to steer my brain away from something you don't need to know about." He answers her and keeps changing channels. "Why does this shit always suck?!" He groans out and turns the TV off, putting the remote down.
C sat on the armrest watching the programs change so quickly you couldn't even tell what they were showing.
"But you don't even give them time to show you what they're offering!" With a gesture she brought the remote control to her hand and, sighing, switched to the first available channel. "Let's see what they're showing on TV."
As she changed channels less quickly than Chaser, she thought about his words. "I hope that thing eating your brain isn't a curse." C commented ironically, knowing full well that he wouldn't tell her about it.
He sighs heavy and lays his head down, not even interested in watching the TV anymore, moreso daydreaming whime his hands shake in withdrawl. He grumbles to C. "I'm gonna... Pop to the bathroom." As he gets up, his shaky hands catch her eyes, and red scratched neck follow right after in her vision.
"Hey. "What did you do to your neck?" She said vaguely, looking at Chaser and the TV. He was much more interesting now.
""Any missions that didn't go so well?" The tone was light. C admitted that she hadn't missed the trembling of his hands, but maybe it was just her imagination.
"Nothin wrong with it.." He mumbles and moves his hair to cover the burning red scratch marks that are quite hard to miss. "I'm fine, C." He grumbles and leaves the room, rubbing his neck a little roughly whilst mumbling to himself. As he walks off, his legs are a little shaky too, and it's clear that something is definitely bothering him.
She watches him leave in silence. The TV is still playing in the background. Honestly, she wasn't the one who insisted. She'd stopped doing it. If someone didn't want to talk, who was she to insist? But when the evidence was clear, she almost felt compelled.
With a sigh, she turned off the TV and put down the remote. She wiped the towel around her neck, still slightly damp, and followed the lieutenant.
"Come on, Lieutenant. What's weighing on your soul? I can feel something's wrong." C. came up beside him. "Magic, remember? She joked.
Albie lays on the common room couch, half awake with exhaustion littered all over his body, muscles aching as he sits alone, eyes closed and legs sprawled over the couch.
He checks the TV, switching through channels before he hears someone coming in the main door. Curious, he perks up and looks at them, then flops back down. "You want me or are you bored too?" He asks, watching a random channel of god knows what. Some footie game.
He huffs and keeps hoarding the couch, switching through the shitty channels. "Nice." He hums and moves his legs to make room for her on the arm rest. "Right now I am trying to steer my brain away from something you don't need to know about." He answers her and keeps changing channels. "Why does this shit always suck?!" He groans out and turns the TV off, putting the remote down.
C sat on the armrest watching the programs change so quickly you couldn't even tell what they were showing.
"But you don't even give them time to show you what they're offering!" With a gesture she brought the remote control to her hand and, sighing, switched to the first available channel. "Let's see what they're showing on TV."
As she changed channels less quickly than Chaser, she thought about his words. "I hope that thing eating your brain isn't a curse." C commented ironically, knowing full well that he wouldn't tell her about it.
He sighs heavy and lays his head down, not even interested in watching the TV anymore, moreso daydreaming whime his hands shake in withdrawl. He grumbles to C. "I'm gonna... Pop to the bathroom." As he gets up, his shaky hands catch her eyes, and red scratched neck follow right after in her vision.
"Hey. "What did you do to your neck?" She said vaguely, looking at Chaser and the TV. He was much more interesting now.
""Any missions that didn't go so well?" The tone was light. C admitted that she hadn't missed the trembling of his hands, but maybe it was just her imagination.
Albie lays on the common room couch, half awake with exhaustion littered all over his body, muscles aching as he sits alone, eyes closed and legs sprawled over the couch.
He checks the TV, switching through channels before he hears someone coming in the main door. Curious, he perks up and looks at them, then flops back down. "You want me or are you bored too?" He asks, watching a random channel of god knows what. Some footie game.
He huffs and keeps hoarding the couch, switching through the shitty channels. "Nice." He hums and moves his legs to make room for her on the arm rest. "Right now I am trying to steer my brain away from something you don't need to know about." He answers her and keeps changing channels. "Why does this shit always suck?!" He groans out and turns the TV off, putting the remote down.
C sat on the armrest watching the programs change so quickly you couldn't even tell what they were showing.
"But you don't even give them time to show you what they're offering!" With a gesture she brought the remote control to her hand and, sighing, switched to the first available channel. "Let's see what they're showing on TV."
As she changed channels less quickly than Chaser, she thought about his words. "I hope that thing eating your brain isn't a curse." C commented ironically, knowing full well that he wouldn't tell her about it.
Albie lays on the common room couch, half awake with exhaustion littered all over his body, muscles aching as he sits alone, eyes closed and legs sprawled over the couch.
He checks the TV, switching through channels before he hears someone coming in the main door. Curious, he perks up and looks at them, then flops back down. "You want me or are you bored too?" He asks, watching a random channel of god knows what. Some footie game.
Wind shifted her grip on her gun. The military-grade sniper, affectionately named Daisy, rested familiarly in her grasp. Back home her employers men whispered that the only thing she loved in the whole world was that gun.
With the well oiled machine in her hands, it was hard for Wind to deny. No scope was easier and if anything her eyesight had gotten better over her years of political assassinations and sneaking around enemy military bases.
Now here she was, on the rooftop of a military hangar. The US army delta force. Thats who she was scoping, she had been on site for a week. Living on scraps from the kitchen and stolen water bottles. Learning how the base moved. From down there everything seemed chaotic, illogical but from up here, it was a living being.
One Wind could take down with one bullet. The base commander left the mess hall. Wind had just came back from his office. Flash driver safely in her pocket. Now all there was to do was finish the job.
The crack of the bullet sounded through the yard. Wind only had to stay a millisecond to see the commander fall face first into the dust. The men training below dropped and covered their heads.
Wind was already moving. She slid down the vent and dropped into the back of the hangar behind a pile of crates.
The time that had passed since the soldiers' training began was incalculable. One, two hours? C was getting bored watching them while they did nothing but aim, load, shoot and reload their rifles. It was an exercise that increased their concentration and reflexes, but she found it extremely boring. Especially to watch.
"Faster with those arms, do you want to die on the field!?" The American commander's shout made her snap her head. She hated shouting, which was an oxymoron since she was part of the military. And there was certainly no shortage of screams.
Some soldiers stared at her, and she avoided looking back. She hated being there. They'd sent her to America because the commander had specifically requested her famous magical "protection." He felt in danger. Price and Laswell disagreed, but Sheppard had the final say. Now she was there, watching those soldiers train under the commander's shouts.
"What do you think of our boys, Captain?" A forced smile at that title. C felt like anything but a captain, and the commander said it in an annoying tone. "They're the best around. They could do much better with a "magic" incentive." It was no secret that they wanted her, but she would never leave the British military.
"Maybe one day someone "magical" will knock on your door." C smiled spitefully, looking back at those men who moved with great precision.
Her powers had been known for some time. Rumors spread quickly. In an instant, she found herself surrounded by job applications and hate messages. She didn't care. Her job was to protect those she truly cared about, not to be used as a weapon in the political games of the big shots.
But as he thought this, the training noise turned into one of panic. A bang and a body on the ground. The commander was gone, and all the soldiers were gearing up to look for the person responsible.
She had not fulfilled her duty.
Her eyes turned green, magic flowed through her, and she tried to figure out where the blow had come from. Once she was certain, she rushed to that spot without hesitation.
"Good. Gaz and Soap are assholes sometimes, they seem like overgrown children, but they are nice. Ghost is good company when I want to read, at least he stays quiet. And Price is a good captain...he loves us, despite everything."
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