#fc: ruby rose

[spywrites]

[theivorytower-rp-blog]

[blood-sexand-wolves]

[mountprospect-promo]

                MOUNT PROSPECT’S MOST WANTED

          SKYLAR EVERETT | 100 27 | ALCHEMIST | FC: RUBY ROSE

Skylar knew xe was special from the moment xe entered the world. As soon as xe discovered xir abilities, there would be no living in the shadows: the world had to know of the greatness xe was capable of, and xe was going to use that greatness to change the world. Skylar had no idea the fight of xir life wouldn’t be on the battlefield xe signed up for, but in off-the-record black sites used for creating a legendary artifact that would supposedly shift the tides of World War II: the Philospher’s Stone.

                   Interested in Skylar? Read the full biography here.

                 MAIN | MESSAGE | PLOT | RULES | CHARACTERS

[fabletonrp]

BASICS

Name: Ash Noelle Story: A Christmas Carol Character: Ghost of Christmas Past (Charles Dickens) Age: 25 (unknown) Job: Owner of Ghoulish Candles Location: Halloweentown (above their shop) Faceclaim: Ruby Rose Status: Closed

PERSONALITY

+ {coming soon}

- {coming soon}

BIOGRAPHY

This spirit never truly was created. Nor were they ever born. They simply were.They were the memories that lived out in your past, and the nostalgic feeling you would get from the smell of your mother’s turkey dinner on Christmas day. They were your laughter when you were wee and the reading of awful cracker jokes read out with a toothy grin from your father. They were the image of family. The pure rush of dragging your girl under the mistletoe to share your fatal first kiss. They were that little reminder of all that you were. Their form was an unusual one. A long flowing white robe with a flame glowing  upon their head. They were a genderless spirit, its age unidentifiable and its form rather similar to that of a candle. Its voice was soft and neutral, inviting at most times, and eerie in others.

The Ghost of Christmas past: That was their title. The spirit had merely one purpose in their life and that was to insight people into their mistakes in their pasts in hopes of creating a notion of needing to change. No one needed that more than a one Ebenezer Scrooge. His past, present and future was all full of misfortune, not such an unusual notion, but rather an unfortunate one. Such misery and bitterness in one man. It was merely part of the spirit’s purpose to see through that he remembered his past: remorseful or otherwise.  The outcome of such confrontations resulted in the worst possible anger and blame that Scrooge cold hold against them. And then Scrooge did the worst action he could against a spirit like themselves: He put out their flame.

The next time that the spirit awoke, they were rested in a secluded establishment in the form of a young-adult human being. They now possessed a sex, but did not see a gender attached to it. They still found themselves identifying and relating more with a candle than anyone around them. A bittersweet feeling, seeing as their hair no longer burnt with a strong glowing flame, but now settled as an ash-like black. It is how the spirit came to identify themselves with a new name: Ash. It has left the spirit with a rather strong bitterness and resenting way of thinking, constantly delving into how powerful they once were and how pathetic they now are. Not long after they arrived, they came to the idea of opening a candle shop. They established a business and a home on the upper floor, the upper floor having mere use to take care of their now human needs. Eating, sleeping, washing. It was not the life they wanted, but it was the one they were forced to put up with. They find some sort of sustainability through smoking cigarettes and sometimes substances with a stronger effect.

However, seeing as Ash creates all their own candles for Ghoulish Candles, they have experimented long and hard on scents and effects alike. Whether to relax or waken or refresh. It was whilst doing this in the company of a towns-person, who had merely wished to see how the candles were created, that it happened for the first time. The candle was made, and set alight whilst they talked over coffee. The smoke and the scents lingered in the air, within the moment, the two of them were reliving the other’s Christmas as a ten year old, their father walking out of the house just as the Christmas pudding was served. It was not until they were dragged out of it that Ash were told that the smell of red wine and his father’s cigarettes were what triggered such memories. It drew a lot of energy from the “ex” spirit, and so they avoid using this discovered ability too often. But, the curiosity to look back into other’s memories is sometimes too much, and they often lure some in, just to get a taste of their pasts and learn of those who they were surrounded by. It is only in their nature to wish to learn about other’s pasts.

CONNECTIONS

Long Lankin: Ash gets a rather familiar vibe when this man passes them by. Long was not human in their past, and they do not need a candle to figure this out. The man makes them curious, and they wish to someday bump into him so that they can talk more.

Jack Skellington: When Ash has looked into people’s pasts, it has usually been to see their Christmas (perhaps it is force of habit?) but this man has caught them in passing curiosity, and when a cockroach had fallen into the flame that burnt nearby the man, his past Christmas appeared, only brief, only a second, but a skeleton wearing red clothing and a false beard was enough to perk their attention, wishing to find out so much more about such an irregular image.

ALTERNATE FACECLAIMS: N/A

[lipstickandrazxrblades-blog]

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*Established 2015, re-established 3/8/16 *Indie RP blog *Multi-ship, multi-verse, multi-fandom capable *Mun and Muse are 21+ *NSFW tagged and cut *Currently accepting messages for plot development

[wiscowrites]

Ruby Rose & Priyanka Chopra

as Skylar Everett & Riza Sarai of mountprospectrp

[dearzamira-blog]

watching the detectives (open)

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

The exclamation was not unfamiliar to Zamira, nor to those who knew her well. She swore -- she swore like a pirate drank, hard and lots. That mouth had gotten her in plenty of trouble in her life, from her aunt to the teachers to her more conservative friends, dirty glares had been abound day in and day out. But Zamira didn’t stop swearing, just like an alcoholic didn’t stop drinking and a smoker didn’t stop smoking. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Zamira glanced up from the cause of her exclamation -- detention for what she was doing now, swearing -- to the person standing over her. “You gonna help or ogle?”