#openm

[mobscene-london]

BASIC INFORMATION:

NAME: Guillaume Fournier. AGE: 40. PLACE OF BIRTH: Paris, France. AFFILIATION: The French Organization. OCCUPATION: Loyalist. FACE CLAIM: François Arnaud. AVAILABILITY: OPEN.

BIOGRAPHY:

The resentment he held for Théodore Chaussard was unfair, and he knew it. ‘You weren’t there. You don’t know how it went down.’ It was a mantra he repeated to himself often; the only way he could excuse the idea of one of the family’s most respected Commandants choosing to save himself over his men. Over his little brother. A St. Clair loyalist moulded by the pain of loss was hardly ground-breaking, but perhaps because of the circumstances, Guillaume had always had a little more trouble dealing with it than the others. Of course, the majority of his anger was directed toward Johnathan Parsons; he was the one who’d pulled the trigger during what were supposed to be peace talks, after all. Yet, his pain was compounded knowing that had Théodore Chaussard been honest—had he told Parsons the truth, that he was the highest ranking member present—maybe his brother would have been spared. Being angry at an enemy was one thing. Blaming an ally, quite another. Maybe he was angry at himself, too. If it hadn’t been for his choices back in Paris, Léo never would have wound up involved with the St. Clair family at all. Like little brothers often did, he’d watched as Guillaume had prowled the streets of their home city with his powerful friends, and admired it enough that he sought to follow in his footsteps. The two became heavily involved with the St. Clairs in their teens. Even if you grew up with nothing—something the boys were painfully familiar with—they promised a life far removed from struggle…because association alone was a powerful status symbol in a city that bent to the French Organization’s every whim. Like many of the others sucked into the life, Guillaume had never had a good relationship with his parents. Maybe that was what made travelling to Launceston such an easy decision when François St. Clair had asked it of him. As long as his little brother followed, it didn’t matter. The French Organization was a solid example that home was wherever family was, and as he watched many of his friends make the journey to the United States, he realised that the St. Clairs were very much his. Guillaume thrived in his new home, but he could tell his brother struggled. Launceston was violent in ways Paris never had been, because in Paris, they had no real competition. Across the pond? It was an entirely different story. Everything they earned had to be fought for, and even whilst they enjoyed the knowledge that they overpowered the other gangs in the city almost absolutely, it wasn’t without bloody and violent resistance. There was never a moment it was safe to let your guard down. Never a moment where you weren’t forced to look over your shoulder, lest you end up another fucking crime statistic.

Guillaume adapted to it quickly. Léo never did, even though he tried his best to put on a brave face so he didn’t feel like any more of a burden. Maybe it was because he got so swept up in his new role in Launceston, but things between the brothers changed. Léo felt side-lined as he struggled. Guillaume was spending more and more time with his Commandant friends, and less with the person who mattered to him most. Not that he neglected him entirely, but it sure felt that way now he looked back on his mistakes. Maybe if he’d just been a little bit more present, Léo never would have been charmed by the idea of Porto Velho. Léo had made his own connections, including the woman he would eventually marry, Estelle. And when she was chosen for a Commandant’s position in Porto Velho, of course, he followed. It was the first time Guillaume and his brother had ever been apart. They’d always been inseparable, because Léo would have followed him anywhere. Not this time, though. And everything felt wrong without him. Guillaume was primed to make Commandant in Launceston—about the highest honour there was after making Commandant in Paris. Yet after a few months without Léo, he turned his back on it all and travelled to Porto Velho to fix his mistakes. This time, it was him doing the following, and Guillaume wasn’t too proud to admit that. It would take some time, but eventually, it began to feel like things were getting back to normal between them. Guillaume was making extra effort to be involved with his life, to support him as he began to make his own name for himself in this new city. Short-lived, though. Quite literally.

Estelle had been the one to break the news to him the night it happened. The French had met with the Rutherfords—Johnathan Parsons, to be exact—in the hopes that they could come to some agreement regarding the division of Porto Velho’s territory amongst themselves. The two families had always managed to co-exist before that. London was a prime example. But it seemed this time, the Rutherfords were not willing to share, and their idea of sending a message to make that clear was murdering the French party involved. Well, murdering all except one… They’d spared Théo. Not his little brother, though. Guillaume had completely shut down when he’d found out. He didn’t even have it in him to attempt to be the supportive brother-in-law that Estelle needed. Participation in the French Organization’s business took a backseat whilst the others sought revenge, because he just couldn’t process it enough to be angry. Couldn’t process it enough to live anything but a sliver of his former existence. Until he was angry. Unfairly, perhaps, at all the wrong people… The Frenchman had barely communicated with the St. Clairs until they finally reached out about the expansion to London. Whilst he’d once been close with the likes of Laurent, Oliver, Richard…he’d slipped into the background, a memory of what once was, and dealt with his pain in brutal and silent isolation. Even his friendship with Maria had suffered, and she was as close to a best friend as he had. The St. Clairs knew better than to push, though; particularly when he’d unleashed his anger rather violently on Théo once before. It seemed unlikely the Commandant would survive a second head-to-head. When the opportunity to expand to London came up, however, they knew they had to at least offer the chance. Offer the opportunity to fight back against those who had hurt him. How could he decline? The Rutherfords had declared war upon the French Organization the moment Johnathan Parsons had shot unarmed men who simply sought resolution. The idea of going to London—the place they called home—and ripping it to shreds? It was just enough to bring back a spark of something, and for the first time in a year, Guillaume wasn’t numb. Wasn’t subject to a life of crippling guilt and misery. That same fire that had served him so well in Launceston was back, but this time, it didn’t burn for pride, or to defend the honour of the St. Clairs. It wasn’t directed toward their decades long war with the Russians, or the Koreans who had been a perpetual thorn in his side during his time there. Instead, it was solely for the British who had transformed from benevolent business partner to enemy number one. The years spent in London have not been as productive as he would have hoped, and the losses the French have suffered in the meantime have only heightened his ire. Trying to fight a family so engrained in the city’s very being would be the equivalent of someone coming to Paris and expecting to overthrow the St. Clairs. Guillaume can see that, now. Whilst he still has his problems with Théodore—no one dares leave them alone together—he has at least gravitated back toward the people he once called friends. Has started to reintegrate into the St. Clair family he’d once seen as his own. And as each day passes without Rutherford blood shed by his own hand, his hunger for their pain grows. Eventually, it will reach a breaking point. And all of them know it.  

SOCIAL CONNECTIONS:

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single.   FAMILY: Léo Fournier (brother, deceased) CONNECTIONS:

Maria Azenha: Good friend. After all of the brutality created by his own hands, both in Launceston and now London, it would be easy to assume Guillaume is nothing but a brute. Seeing him with Maria proves that he has a softer side for those who matter, though. They met in Porto Velho, before his brother's death, and what started out as mutual flirtation, ended up in a meaningful friendship, instead. And he's glad for that. Whilst it strained their relationship, too, she was one of the few he didn't cut off entirely during his mourning period, and that speaks volumes about how much their friendship means to him.

Laurent St. Pierre: Good friend. They have been friends for almost fifteen years, ever since the Launceston days, and he appreciates greatly that one of the 'original' crew is present in London. It makes it feel a little more like the old times. Laurent was the only other person besides Maria who could get through to him after he lost Léo, and whilst he rebuffed efforts to return to the St. Clairs at that time, he appreciated the fact Laurent still cared enough to look out for him. The closest thing to family he has left, and Guillaume doesn't take that for granted.

Johnathan Parsons: Enemy. Oh, what he wouldn't give to meet this fucker face to face. Gang politics be damned, he'll break his neck without a second thought.

Théodore Chaussard: Despises. Whilst some would argue his anger is irrational, and he probably even realises it himself, Guillaume doesn't care. He will forever hold Théodore partially responsible for Léo's death, and it's a lot easier than blaming himself. The last time they spoke about it and tried to clear the air, Guillaume put the man in hospital. They have never tried since, and the rest of the French Organization knows better than to push for resolution...

Estelle Guerin: Sister-in-law. Maybe it's guilt at the fact he essentially abandoned her after Léo's death, but Guillaume feels particularly protective of her these days. More so knowing everything she's sacrificed to come to London. They have a shared goal, to hurt the Rutherfords by any means necessary, and he finds comfort in knowing they will always prioritise that, even as St. Clair interests shift. They have become very close friends since moving to London.

[chwrpg]

EDWIN "TEDDY" LAFUENTE. rock star; twenty-one. xolo maridueña. OPEN.

and, as ted logan once said: “All we are is dust in the wind, dude.” 

BEFORE THE PARTY

Edwin LaFuente— more commonly known by the nickname given to him by his legion of fans, Teddy might not be the brightest light bulb in the tool shed. No, that wasn't leading to a but. He's not exactly academically gifted and he'd be the first to let you know, although there's a variety of other things Teddy did very well. For one, his knack to perfectly assess someone's zodiac sign, it was almost freaky how well he could take one look at someone and know exactly what their sign was. His ability to never have a bad hair day. There wasn't a day those perfectly perfect curls on his head weren't perfect. And the worst part, he didn't even try. Not to mention, he'd been a star soccer player for a spell during his tenure at the famed Rosewood Academy, in fact that's what had allowed him to attend the school. Not that he stuck to it given that his true love had been one thing and one thing only. Music. Sure, his abilities on the field had been his golden ticket but music had been what fed his soul. For as long as he could remember ( a shocker he'd retained these moment given memory wasn't a thing Teddy was known for ) Teddy had a knack for music. A talent that his mother and father had stood divided on. See, his father believed in nurturing his god given talent whilst his mother didn't want her son to end up a lowly busker, singing his shoulda, woulda, coulda's for some spare change. She wanted him to thrive, to have a better life than the one she and her husband had. So she pushed for him to excel at things that would get him further ahead, academics and athletics but Teddy rejected these things at every pass— his father taking note of this pushback and instead fed his love for music. He'd get his son the latest Weezer record as he enjoyed the whimsy of their lyrics. He took Teddy to guitar lessons, as an incentive to get his son to try to placate his mother and it'd definitely worked. But he wasn't cut out for the Troy Bolton life. So as soon as he could, he devoted his entire life to the one thing he loved. Music. His passion soon translated to success, as he'd caught the attention of his classmate and fellow music aficionado— Benny Peleke. And the rest was as they say, history. The two couldn't be more different on paper; Benny having came from an affluent background, Teddy having not. Benny actually cared about his grades, whilst Teddy only cared because he didn't want to hear it from his mama. Benny had charm and charisma in droves, Teddy still got tongue tied at the mere thought of asking someone for their number. But what did they have in common? Their love for music. With Benny's knowledge in marketing and social media combined with Ted's talent, the two knew they had something. Benny then suggested that his main squeeze, Penny Lane sing vocals on their tracks. When the three came together, it'd been lightening in a bottle. Their name, their music instantly becoming inescapable. Soon, in came the accolades, the fame and by his side, his best friend. The person who'd made all of his dreams become a reality. He'd been able to do what he loved for a boat load of money, whilst making both of his parents proud of him. All was righteous in his world. Well... that was until Penny Lane had decided she was better off a solo act.

DURING THE PARTY

What was going to become of Benny and him? Like yeah, they would probably continue as a duo, and he wouldn't complain about that because he'd get to keep rocking out with his best bud... but it wasn't like neither one of them were lyricists. All those words, that was all Penny Lane's doing. He couldn't even begin to fathom how to put together a song. As Teddy continued to think about how different things were about to be for Benny and himself, he felt his mood start to mellow and that was the last thing he needed. No, what Benny and him needed was a good ol' night out. Something to simulate the mind, maybe that'll get words flowing out of the two of them. And luckily, they were back home in Rosewood, where every night was essentially a party. So he went about picking up their pre-party essentials, in hopes of getting Benny out of the funk he'd found himself post break up. Which he totally got, his main guy had just gotten his heart broken into a gazillion little pieces— but between us, Teddy had always thought Benny was way too good for Penny Lane, so he was going to do everything in his power to lift him back up. As he'd stepped out of the local supermarket, munchies in hand– he found himself blinded by a stray piece of paper. He reached up to remove it from his face, ready to toss it in the trash ( Teddy was strictly anti-litter) but curiosity got the best of him and he decided to read what was on it. That decision being one that Teddy would always be grateful for as the piece of paper was a flyer, one that was seeking band mates. A certain, Cliff Saito was looking to put together a band and well, Benny and himself were out a band member so perhaps... they were exactly what each other needed.

alternate faceclaims and prompts.

[mobscene-launceston]

BASIC INFORMATION:

NAME: Paul Romano.   AGE: 63. PLACE OF BIRTH: Launceston, Massachusetts, United States. AFFILIATION: The Sovrani. OCCUPATION: Underboss. FACE CLAIM: Giancarlo Esposito. AVAILABILITY: OPEN.

(Warning: Mentions/themes of racism.)

“They’re never going to treat you the same, son.”

The words of his father were undoubtedly meant as a deterrent from trying.

As was so often the case with Paul Romano, however, being told that he couldn’t do something only made him more adamant to prove to himself that he could.

It was hypocritical of his father to discourage him from seeking Sovrani membership when his own position within the organisation was the reason he’d come to Launceston in the first place. Giovanni had served them back home in Rome, and had only made the transition to the States when he’d been summoned by the Auditores personally.

Paul always knew that even if he did make the cut, he had a hell of a man to live up to.

Growing up in Valence had proven to him that his father’s concerns weren’t entirely unwarranted, though. In spite of Giovanni’s reputation, he had been berated by many outside of the organisation for marrying an African-American woman. The way they’d treated his mother, Dorothy, was even worse. Even if he’d been too young to understand why back then, he understood that it just was, and Paul sure remembered wiping her tears when she returned from grocery shopping; once again victim to a racist tirade from strangers. The Sovrani weren’t perfect by any means, and there were still plenty of pieces of shit who had something to say about the person his father had fallen in love with, but for the most part, they were better than Valencian average. Not that it was saying much.

Maybe the idea that he’d have to work harder to prove himself just because of the colour of his skin should’ve been enough for him to seek out another life entirely. As a teen, coming to terms with the world he lived in, a part of him had almost been swayed away by the thought. But he remembered so clearly that night when everything changed. It was Bartolomeo himself who’d defended Paul’s mother from a Capo who had a few choice words to describe her, never to be repeated again. It could’ve been a slap on the wrist if the man had cared less. Instead, the future leader had broken legs that day. Used the power of his last name to strip the scum of his membership entirely. Paul never forgot how he’d walked the then teenager and his mother home, making sure they were all right before he left again.

And Paul never forgot that even though it was the kind of thing any decent human should’ve done, to stand up to a Capo in their world for a woman he hardly knew was not the easy choice.

It was hard not to respect the fact he’d made it anyway.

When Bartolomeo became the leader of the Sovrani, Paul had just entered his early twenties. Up until that point, his connections with the gang had been casual at best; mostly a result of his father’s involvement. The two older men had grown close over the years—the leader respected Giovanni more than almost all others—and as such, their family had attained a status where they’d always be looked after. Paul also knew that if he ever wanted to pursue joining the Sovrani seriously, all he would have to do was ask…and so he did.

Bartolomeo was the kind of man deserving of his respect.

Paul would spend the entirety of his service to him learning new reasons why.

The respect was always returned, and that was important to him. But as much as the leader respected him, he also made it abundantly clear that he trusted him, and that was solidified when Lucrezia Auditore returned from Rome, and entered his life in an absolute whirlwind.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” she’d scoffed, and her father had chuckled.

“Noted,” Paul had replied, with absolutely no intention of becoming one.

The newly minted Capo, aged forty-three, was one of the last to be appointed by Bartolomeo during his tenure. But the honour almost paled in comparison to being trusted to watch over his youngest daughter. Back then, they had clashed—albeit mostly one-sidedly, from the impossibly headstrong woman—and she sure hadn’t made teaching her how things ran in Launceston easy. Other things, though? Lucrezia made those come naturally.

Paul had fought against his feelings with all he had. Their very first argument (and back then, they had been many) he was sure he’d fallen in love with her right on the fucking spot. For a man who had often been on the receiving end of ‘why haven’t you settled down yet?’ comments from his colleagues, it was a bitter pill to swallow to know that the moment he could finally imagine himself with somebody, they were entirely out of his reach. Even if she hadn’t been married, if she hadn’t been the boss’s daughter, his father’s words still echoed. The Sovrani had accepted him, but he still wasn’t sure if they would’ve ever accepted that.  

In spite of it all, he was a professional; a master at compartmentalisation, and his feelings, to keep hold of a friendship that meant so much to him, were no different. Long had he been revered by his peers for his strength, his self-assuredness without arrogance, his level-head and his diplomacy. Paul was a credit to the Sovrani, and lifted by Bartolomeo as an example of all they could, and what they should, be. This might’ve stirred discontent amongst some of the aging conservative members, but they would die out eventually. Paul was honoured to be a herald of the change; a gateway experience for many other prospective members from a similar background.

He did so serving dutifully at her side.

Lucrezia was his best friend. He, her most trusted advisor. Together, they were formidable.

The Auditore introduced him to the woman who would eventually become his wife. Her husband, Antonio, would become one of his closest friends as the years passed them by. Soon, Alessia ascended to the throne, but as leader, much like her father, she too had entrusted a great deal to him. With only a few exceptions, aside from the Auditores and Vespuccis themselves, Paul was one of the most powerful members in the entire organisation, and he supposed, in a sense, his father had been right. They didn’t treat him the same. They treated him better.

For the majority of Alessia’s leadership, Lucrezia spent her time in Rome. It was a big shift for him, and he realised in missing her, that he hadn’t buried his feelings as well as he’d thought. Launceston had always been home for him, even if not for her, but he couldn’t help but feel it was a little emptier without her in it. That made it all the more unfortunate to be grateful for her return. He felt guilty for the happiness, the relief. Of course he wanted her back—he did every time she was gone—but not at the expense of Alessia’s life.

The sisters had always been close, in spite of the distance. Paul might’ve been Lucrezia’s confidant, one of the very few she would allow herself to be vulnerable around, but even he was at a loss at how to guide her through the pain. Not only was the Auditore family reeling, the Sovrani was also grieving the loss of arguably its most important and beloved leader to date. Paul found himself divide between trying to help the woman he loved, and desperately holding together the Launceston arm of the gang as the Russians began to wage an all-out assault on their existence.

But Lucrezia was strong. Perhaps more so than anybody ever gave her credit for.

Bartolomeo returned to leadership in the wake of Alessia’s death, but he knew that his daughter would be ready to step up to the plate eventually.

“I want you to be there at her side, Paul.”

“That’ll be her decision, not ours.”

But throughout the hushed conversations, Bartolomeo knew she wouldn’t choose anybody else.

When Lucrezia approached him, shortly ahead of her initiation as the Sovrani’s new leader, she had done so with a look in her eyes that wasn’t familiar to him. Not from her. Paul had witnessed leaders in the city tear themselves apart trying to avenge their losses, and with the status she was about to obtain, she would have the means to become one of them. Much like Bartolomeo had anticipated, she wanted Paul to become her underboss. And much like Bartolomeo had anticipated, he hadn’t hesitated to accept. Not only would she need somebody she trusted at her side, she would need the only person that had the ability to talk her down from doing something stupid.

The only person who had the ability to tell her no, and be heard.

Whilst his mother might’ve been opposed to this life for him in the beginning, Paul knows that both of his parents are looking down on him, immensely proud of all he has achieved.

And he’s not going to start disappointing them by fucking up now.  

SOCIAL CONNECTIONS:

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Angela Romano (wife) FAMILY: Giovanni and Dorothy Romano (parents, deceased), Giovanni Romano (son, unplayable), Anna, Lucia Romano (daughters, unplayable) CONNECTIONS:

Allegra Vespucci: Old friend. With the exception of Lucrezia, Allegra is without a doubt his dearest friend. Many find her attitude to be abrasive, and perhaps he's just learnt how to deal with it better, but they always got along like a house on fire. Her move to London was unfortunate, but it's not as though their friendship hasn't survived worse. Paul made sure to let her know she better plan on coming home to visit, because he has no intention of setting foot in London.

Antonio D'Agostino: Good friend. Conventional wisdom might have one assuming the two would never see eye-to-eye, but it simply isn't the case. Paul isn't jealous of his marriage, not as long as he makes Lucrezia happy, and he would never try to paint the man a villain to justify anything else. Their two families are close, their children are friends, and the man has become as much a staple in his life as Lucrezia. There are few he trusts more. Genuinely.

Joey Sambuco: Friend. Much as he was for the others, during the aftermath of Alessia's death, in spite of his own grief, Paul was a shoulder for Joey. The man's feelings for her were practically common knowledge, and he supposed he could relate to that. Whilst they weren't particularly close beforehand, they certainly bonded during this time, and Paul is glad to call him a friend; particularly as they now work side-by-side in their respective positions within the Sovrani.

Simona Infascelli: Good friend. Though she is the polar opposite of him in almost every way (most notably, about as hot-headed as they come) the two have always balanced each other out nicely. Paul was responsible for pushing for her to be made Capo by Alessia, and it was because she deserved it. So far as the Russians are concerned, Paul can't help but worry when his people have to face them. But not Simona. Never her. There, it's the Russians who should worry.

[happiestplacehq]

DAVID Q. DAWSON is fifty years old. He is a retired Army Surgeon. He is the humanized version of David Q. Dawson from the Disney film, The Great Mouse Detective.

+ Good-Natured, Generous, Sympathetic - Fretful, Bumbling, Cowardly

ABOUT DAVID

Originally from London, David Dawson moved to Redwood Hollow a few years ago to finally get a bit of peace and quiet.

He spent many years in the military as a surgeon, and took an early retirement when the stress of the job became too much.

Following his retirement, he settled back in London, but things didn't stay quiet for long. He became involved in a missing person's case, aiding Basil Baker and Olivia Flaversham in the search for Olivia's father, Hiram.

When the case was resolved, David kept in contact with Basil during his time in London, and became good friends with him.

Now living in Redwood Hollow, David has noticed some strange things going on. He tipped off Basil to the illnesses and disappearances, who is now looking into it.

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION*

(Optional) *Up to player.

CONNECTIONS

Basil Baker - A close friend of David’s. They met while he was working the Flaversham case in London and have been friends since. Olivia Flaversham - David was the first person to find Olivia as a young child and offer her help after her father went missing. Bianca Gabor and Bernard Sharp - Acquaintances through Basil and the Rescue Aid Society.

David is currently available. His faceclaim is Jack Black.

[capitolgames]

YOUR CAPITOL SALUTES YOU, ARC OVERTIDE OF DISTRICT THREE.

There was a reason the Capitol chose Arc. He knew there was. There was a reason for everything the Capitol did, and only a fool thought otherwise. Arc wasn’t a fool. He knew all their tricks, like how the peacekeepers are always listening to everything happening in the districts. They were always watching him through their helmets. His sister told him he was crazy, but he wasn’t crazy. Why else would his name be in the reaping bowl?

AVAN JOGIA. TWENTY-THREE. HE/HIM. OPEN.

[nyc-blacklist]

Some people say that Alexander looks a lot like CHARLES MELTON. His faceclaim is semi-negotiable and he is currently AVAILABLE.

If you heard Alex’s story in passing, you’d think it were fake. Most people recognize the man from having graced the cover pages and centerfolds of almost every credible fashion magazine you could dream up. And for the most part, he likes to keep it that way: living among the elitists of the city without a care in the world. There’s a clear divide in New York City, though, and Alex Taurus has seen it firsthand. He’s not about to forget about it.

Before his career took off, life was rough for Alex’s family. It wasn’t so much that their family were outcasts or no-gooders or anything of the sort; it was a simple case of a series of unfortunate events. As a result of an absent father and his mother’s early passing, Alex became the legal guardian of his three siblings by the time he was nineteen. There’s only so much a teenager can do to keep a family of four afloat.

Grand theft auto, for example? Probably should have been his last bet, sure... But, in a state of panic with a small window of opportunity, Alex found himself grasping at straws.

When he was twenty, Alex spent the whole summer hot-wiring cars. He’d sell parts to to garages, or full vehicles for anyone that wouldn’t bust him. He used this alongside his gas station job to make just enough money to get his family by for nearly two years -- Until he got caught.

He’s surprised he didn’t get caught sooner, really. He stole mostly from the same neighborhoods; sold to the same garages; didn’t realize until later, but was pretty reckless from the get-go. Still, it landed him in jail in the end and, in a lot of ways, he was lucky this was his only charge. At the time he was arrested, he was in another neighborhood - one he’d always felt was too risky (and rightly so). By some fate, they weren’t able to link his previous offences to him,  and he got off with only a hefty fine and a grimy mug-shot, and that’s where it all began.

Posting the picture online could have been a dumb move on his part, but by that point he was at a personal low, and he figured if he couldn’t laugh at the situation, he’d only have to dwell on it. He expected curiosity, maybe some laughs from his friends... He did not expect the phone call he received a little less than a week later. No, Alex definitely did not expect to be scouted by one of New York’s biggest agents.

So, yeah. You might recognize him from a cover or a centre fold now. You might also recognize him picking his youngest sibling up from school on a weekday.

Relationships:

Jenny Bennett - Alex swears by Jenny. He refuses to let anybody else touch his hair and, since she began to work with him, the two have formed a really sweet bond, although they never seem to see each other outside of working hours.

Callie Boseman - Callie and Alex are familiar with each other after meeting a few times during their school run. Callie nannies one of the children that attends the same school as Alex’s youngest sibling and they often find themselves chatting with each-other on the playground.

[shallowgravesrp]

"quote to be picked by player.”

Bartemius Crouch Jr.

Age: Twenty-Six

House: Slytherin

Affiliation: Death Eater

Career: UP TO PLAYER

aesthetics: fifteen.

what we all know: Bartemius Crouch Jr. is far calmer and smarter than the man before him. While his father held an important office within the ministry, he was constantly on edge, he was mean, he was hurtful, and Bartemius Jr. refused to be the same. When he went into school, he used his time to gain as much knowledge about wizarding history as he possibly can. He did what he could in order to gain as much information from those around him before he joined the Death Eaters after school. He’s determined to rise to the top of the group and to become second, if not first, in command of the new order over the wizarding world.

biography to be written by player. 

BELLATRIX BLACK - Bartemius does feel bad for Bellatrix, knowing the kind of disgrace that comes from your family disowning you. However, he feels like he could use her in his mission. While she might be a little hard to work with and there is nothing to guarantee that she’ll work out, but who wouldn’t want a strong canon in their pocket?

DIRK CRESSWELL - Dirk has always been someone that seemed weak to Bartemius. He watched as people tortured him in school and always thought he wouldn’t make it far. It seems he hasn’t change much in his older years, causing Bartemius to wonder if he could use this to his advantage.

LUCIUS MALFOY - Malfoy is an idiot in Bartemius’ books, but he’s a useful idiot. His family has a lot of money and power, as does the Crouch family. However, there is something he knows he has to do, which is just tolerate the other and prepare for when he would cash in the favor he needs.

CONNECTIONS BARTEMIUS CROUCH JR IS MENTIONED IN

Bartemius Crouch Jr. is currently a OPEN role with the faceclaim of (UP TO PLAYER). 

[portuscale-hq]

Ilosovic Stayne | 29 | Fixed --> Wicked Nine | NA

Realm: Wonderland

Ocuppation: Drug dealer, hides it being Head Security at The Royal Flush

Pronouns: he/him

Sexuality: Up to Player 

Fc: Travis Fimmel

He is: Prideful --> Arrogant --> Envious.

But also: Clever --> Resourceful --> Gallant

Based on The Knave of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland

OPEN || TAKEN

The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts. ||

The syndrome of middle child always stung Ilosovic’s pride, always the second best, always behind Tristan. His father wanted him to be a scholar, the clever one, never letting Ilosovic training with the sword, no, that was meant only for Tristan, but young Ilosovic had other plans. He wanted to be respected and actually work along with the royalty, like Tristan was destined. Ilosovic started to resent not only his brother, but also his parents, for not understanding his needs, nor even wanting to give him a shot. Ilosovic would constantly get himself into trouble, a form to obtain his parents attention, such as stealing tarts from the princesses, because of that he started a rather odd friendship with Iracebeth. He would always pretend to steal her tarts and they would blame Mirana for it. 

As the years went by the man started to develop skills on being crafty and kept a distance from his family. Dropping his name, he started to be known as the Knave of Hearts, because he slayed everyone who was on his path. For that, he sided with Iracebeth on her claim for the throne. They understood each other, but in her case things were pretty much more complicated. Aligning his forces with hers, he helped her to steal the throne of queen Mirana. Ilosovic knew that Tristan would always side with The White Queen, and that was reason enough to go against her reign. What Ilosovic couldn’t understand was how Ace also sided with Tristan. Enraged by the situation, Ilosovic plotted alonside Iracebeth for the demise of his younger brother. For his surprise, the queen had other plans for him, she took his heart, and now, Ace is a puppet on her hands. 

As the Head Knight of The Red Queen, Ilosovic followed Iracebeth to this new world, he never doubted where he belonged, all the talks about power of Wicked Nine always lured him. He developed his own business of drugs selling, but never let Iracebeth’s side, he knows that one day she’ll find her sister, and wherever Mirana is, Tristan will always be. Ilosovic can’t wait for the opportunity to make his brother suffer how he suffered on the past.

And took them quite away. ||

Alice Liddel. --> I like largeness. 

Ilosovic has unresolved feelings about her, even knowing that goes against his duties with his queen.

Iracebeth Crimms --> The enemy of my enemy if my friend.

Ilosovic knows that he is expendable for her, that they only have a common interest.

Ace Stayne -->  If this be treason, make the most of it!

Ilosovic doesn’t regret what he did with Axel, in fact, at least that way, for the first time, he has someone he can trust along his side. 

Tristan Stayne -->  Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake.

Ilosovic thinks that Tristan is making a mistake, for Iracebeth won the war of their realm, and is just waiting for his opportunity to strike his brother.