Discover Top Posts Tagged with #untouchable:intro

Popular Recent

HELLO , beautiful people ! i’m bloom and this is my sweet cherry pie , known - to - be - beautiful , sad girl angelina harrison --- but you can call her angel ! her corresponding skeleton is the pleiades , i’m very , very excited to be here and introduce you guys to her . she has layers like an onion , is broken af but also very cute , and i hope you guys love her as much as i do . these are just the bullet points from her app and some connections i’d like for her ; i plan on making a separate post in the future detailing how the fall out between her and her parents went , as her absolute loss of their support plays a part in why she joined the sanctum . let’s get the fun started woo !

#. ✧ . * . ˚ word out on the street is the devil’s in your kiss — ch. study #untouchable:intro

hi, everyone ! i’m natalie (18, she/her, gmt), and PICTURED in the gif icon is warren. he’s a handful and then some. his skeleton is hercules ! ugh i look forward to plotting with you gorgeous and talented lot ! the information i put in his app ended up being quite lengthy, so i didn’t have time to adapt it much for the intro. i’m sorry ! anyway, here goes.

#untouchable:intro #yes im the hoe who chose to write a bio in second-person. i like to live dangerously #im sorry this is a mess!!!

INTRO TIME ---

he didn’t ask to be born but she had prayed for him and had created him in an act of deep love. It was perhaps the last moment she had felt safe, in her lovers arms, wrapped in peace and security. But she was the daughter of an important man and her lover was far below her and the family she came from. Once pregnant she was ridiculed and sent away, forced to end the life of her unborn child. But she kept herself safe, by some miracle, and gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. The school was meant to keep her even after the tragedy they’d planned for her but becoming the martyr they made her was not in the plan. School nurses with big hearts can save lives, and so a birthday was planned instead of a funeral, school documents forged. She was heavy with secrets and desperate for safety, and thanks to the charity of those her father would consider trash, she made it out alive with her baby in her arms.

She did not hide the truth from her son, letting him grow up in kindness and love but with the cloud of anxiety overhead, the unseen danger that always lurked. Suburban life was comfortable, for a little while but she couldn’t find the man she loved, her son’s father, no matter how hard she looked for him. Abandoned by the man she loved, disowned by her family, she set out to make a wonderful life for herself and her son. She worked three jobs if she had to and relied on the kindness of strangers much too often. As he grew he began to eye them all with suspicion, for surely their kindness was not truly free? His driving force was to love and protect his mom, his whole world. She worked her ass off just to feed them, to keep a roof over their heads and he knew in his bones he’d die before he let anyone hurt her ever again. Because there were nights he could hear her crying, years after she had lost her whole life and gained him in exchange. He was full of guilt and determination, mingling in his blood.

When he was fourteen they were found and the fact he breathed was apparently a sin. Men attacked their home and stole from them any semblance of safety they’d felt. He fought hard, half a dozen broken bones could prove it and the neighbors came running which is likely what saved their lives. Because an apartment full of angry, tired and poor could tear down a whole kingdom if they had to and she was their queen. A stranger would have to go a good twelve blocks before they stopped hearing her name exalted. Beauty and naivety was so easily worshipped, just ask him. He was given the full story then, his right hand trashed, his face a mottled mess of purple and red. It was that moment he made a promise to himself, that he’d take down the people who had hurt her, one by one. Because his guilt tripled that day too, if he did not exist -- the life she could have had, SHOULD have had. He’d give it back to her but to do that she had to be able to stop looking over her shoulder.

He’d spent his life playing soldier, defending his mom and anyone else who needed it. Strangers thought him too serious but some knew better. He was a troubled kid and he made poor choices more often than should be allowed, picking fights and pockets on a whim. But his heart was much too big for his chest and his tongue just as quick as it was salty. Who could he have been too, if they had been normal people? Playing soldier turned reality when he joined the Navy at eighteen, knowing he’d need the military to refine him, and pay for college. Games of war could not compare to the real thing, the dust that choked and filled every pore, the pervasive fear and for him the distance. His mom was the only person he had in the whole world, his blood. Being away from her made him more anxious than he’d ever admit and he counted the days until he was home again. But the military gave him discipline and honor, it taught him morals he found loopholes through when necessary, when following orders was questionable at best. He became a SEAL, he won battles and lost them and he witnessed more dust and heartache than he ever planned to.

Injury ended his career and put him at a disadvantage when he returned home, intent on beginning his revenge in full. For years he’d searched for a way to end the people that had wronged him and his mom. He had contacts now and skills he hadn’t when he was just a boy but he couldn’t succeed until he got help. An IED had taken the lives of his brothers, taken limbs, and he’d gotten lucky considering. But the blast had taken his hearing from him and he couldn’t afford the surgery that would ( possibly ) return it. He had never cared about not having a bunch of money, he and his mom had gotten by on what they had and they’d always had each other. But this, this began to sting, to grate. He’d never done anything in halves and while an average man could pursue a normal life despite this disability he was convinced he couldn’t. Because that normal life was still out of reach as long as his moms family breathed, something he considered a sin.

A year passed after his honorable discharge, a year of learning to adapt to a silent world, a year of struggling to learn a new language. His mom too, though she tried so hard, was suffering. She thought it was her fault, because she couldn’t pay for him to go to college which was the reason he joined the military to begin with. Together they’d sit and work on their sign language but he would grow frustrated and she would cry herself to sleep, though now he could no longer hear her sobs through the wall. There had to be a better way, for him to heal, to take care of her, to get his revenge. Why was it becoming so difficult to remain kind?

The sanctum was a dirty rumor spread between street kids, their moms threatening them with those thugs if they misbehaved, like a childhood tale of the boogeyman. He hadn’t expected them to be real but his eyes had been opened when he was a teen, witnessing some petty crimes and violence and learning the boogeyman was real. He didn’t contact them, he wouldn’t have but they found him somehow and he wasn’t about to ignore the offer. The offer of a way to solve all his problems. They promised money, a job, safety. But beyond those basics they offered the surgery he needed, vital information on the people he wanted dead and the care and protection of his mom until the day he died. He should have read the fine print but his gentle and angry heart was pounding too loudly in his chest and he signed on the dotted line.

It was not comfortable, to be owned but it was a gift that kept giving until it was time to pay up. He never imagined he’d be asked to carry out anything asked of him, beyond his moral objections, beyond his wildest nightmares. But they held up their end, he had no reason to say no. the fine print, as well, said to the day HE died, not until the day his mom did. If he stepped out of line the consequences were grave and he’d never do anything to jeopardize the safety and happiness of his mom.

He tried to stay gentle, tried to protect his soft heart. New connections became vital to the organs survival, other people to rescue and care for. New brothers added to his family, however small, after losing too many. He was not the hardened soldier, not at his core, but a boy desperate to protect those he loved, and he tried to love as much as he could. But each day, each deed, set more rot and he was beginning to wonder who could love a monster and why anyone would even try. But he hasn’t given up yet, he still has so much to do. And until he takes his last breath he will care for and protect ----well, everyone.

oh gosh as far as WANTED CONNECTIONS go i prefer to plot with everyone based on chemistry and all that. so just hmu on discord and we can chat about everything you might need or want or any ideas that come to us based on these intro things!

#「 ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰᵉ ˢʰⁱⁿᵉˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵍᵃˡᵃˣʸ ˡᵒˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ 」 | ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ #intro #untouchable:intro

✧･ﾟ: esme tipton is twenty-two and is a professional figure skater and olympic gold medalist. her full bio is here and i’ve made a page for wanted connections/plots. check out under the cut for a lil breakdown.

ALSO HI IM KATI (she/her, est) AND IM SO EXCITED TO MEET AND PLOT W U ALL WOW

#untouchable:intro

yo YO what is up my dudes!! name’s river, pronouns are she/her, and my timezone is est. here is my trash baby, hunter reeves aka the draco skeleton. he’s honestly a complete mess, just a smidge crazy but it’s all good ... right?? anywho here is a profile/basic info type thing and underneath is a lil’ summary about his life which tbh is just the bio part of the app ( bc lbr i’m not gonna get around to writing a full on bio ) and some wanted connects and yeah!! please like this post if u wanna plot bc i’m fucking READY. be warned his backstory is Dramatic asf bc i’m extra lmaoo

#{ *・ﾟ✧ out of control. › ooc }#untouchable:intro

YOU MIGHT NOT BE AFRAID TO DIE , — but that doesn’t mean you’re ready.

( what up kids, my name is lara and i’m your local 23 yr old pile of trash from the ast tz !! i use she / her pronouns, i love red lipstick, patterned button-downs, and mac n cheese. i can usually be found crying about mcr [ yes, still ], organizing my pinterest boards, or thirsting after alex turner. anyway, here’s my kid !! plot with me !! i’m open to anything and everything !! )

#untouchable:intro #「 ☼ out of control but you’re playing a role — MUSINGS 」

intro.

Born to an immigrant mother, Hana Keun had only heard stories about her father, akin to fairytales where her mother was the damsel in distress and her father the dashing knight who rushed to her aid. Over the years, Hana had heard many different excuses for his absence: “he had to leave us for our own safety” or “he’ll come back some day, I promise, yeon-in.” She never got a solid answer as to why he wasn’t in her life in the first place, just that he wasn’t. It was never enough to satisfy her curiosity, but Hana could tell it hurt her mother whenever she brought it up, so eventually she stopped asking.

Growing up, she’d been the freest of spirits, always the first on the playground and the last off, skinning her knee on the blacktop or banging her elbow while pretending to be a pirate on the jungle gym, a bird standing atop the monkey bars and spreading her wings to fly or an astronaut about to be launched into orbit from the see-saw. Her imagination always got the better of her and she’d often spend more times in daydreams than paying attention during her early years.

Middle school saw her get wild in the good way, slushies from 7-11 and guitar lessons and skateboarding until curfew, all while her mother struggled to really make ends meet. Yeah, they were okay but they weren’t comfortable, not the way that Hana had seen her classmates be comfortable, or people walking down the streets when their wrist watches alone cost more than her entire outfit. She got angry, but not at their fortune, but at her own misfortune. If her father hadn’t left, they might not be in this position. If he had been around, maybe things would have been different

It was then she’d decided at the young age of fourteen to seek out her father. She’d snooped around in the house until coming across her birth certificate and found her father’s name. Simon Wolff, one search had opened up a world of possibility. Not only was he famous, richer than God (an actor with another family to boot), he lived close enough that she was able to get a bus ticket and wait around until he entered the coffee shop closest to his house. (some would have called it stalking, Hana called it clever.) She went by her middle name, introducing herself to him as Evie and “such a big fan” and asking for a picture. When he agreed, she pulled out her birth certificate, holding it up and surprised him. Simon Wolff knew he’d had a daughter out there, one that he’d abandoned, and in order to save himself the publicity scandal, he’d offered her anything: acting roles, a new house, anything to keep her out of the spotlight, but Hana only wanted one thing: money.

As it turned out, Simon was willing to give her quite a lot in order to keep her name separated from his. She’d even negotiated a deal: in addition to enough money to keep them comfortably afloat, she wanted ten percent of any earnings he made from any movies, and in return, she wouldn’t tell anyone that she was his child. He hadn’t wanted her, so why the hell would she want him? With all of it recorded as proof of their deal, they went their separate ways, and that was the first, last, only time Hana Keun had ever met her father.

The struggling to make ends meet turned into a better school for Hana, extra guitar lessons and when she showed an interest in singing, vocal lessons. Sent to a private high school, where only the wealthiest made the cut, Hana felt powerful. Powerful enough that she started going by Evie, took her father’s last name, and started up a band. She’d gone from the space case on the playground to the idealist who created a band her first year of high school, won battle of the bands the second, and got a record deal the third. By senior year, she’d gone on tour, taking a tutor on the road. People screamed her name, took pictures with her, and her concerts sold out in minutes. The Clovers weren’t the next big thing, they were the only big thing.

With an album and a tour under her belt, Evie graduated high school as valedictorian, if only because she worked hard even while on tour, taking online tests during the opening acts and studying well into the hours of the morning. The classmates at her private academy couldn’t say the same. There were more drugs going around there than there were being offered to Evie on the road and Evie only rarely partook. She’d have time to mess around when her education wasn’t on the line. Besides, her father wouldn’t be blackmailed forever and she needed to prevent a burn out that could ruin whatever chance she had at caring for her mother. Take care of yourself before you take care of anyone else. In case being a musician failed, she’d have a good education and glowing reviews as a safety net.

It was sometime after graduation and before the next tour that Evie finally approached the Sanctum. She’d heard whispers about them for years, always catching the tail end of one conversation before someone noticed her looking. Black heart and blacker intentions were hidden under the bright, smile, the wide eyes, the look of sheer naivete of her personality, but she’d sought them out. Being a rockstar was all well and good, something that she wouldn’t give up even if this came through, but she wanted more than a career with a sometimes fickle audience. She wanted promises and assurance that her mother would be taken care of even if she stopped making money, if she wasn’t around anymore. So at the Sanctum, she’d asked for two things: Change her father’s will to leave all of his assets, his homes, to her mother. Of course, Evie wasn’t heartless, she’d asked them to leave enough for his current wife and their three kids to survive comfortably, but not much more than that. Then, for the second thing, she asked them to kill Simon Wolff.

With her mother taken care of and her father taken care of, Evie was free to continue life as she pleased and the cheery optimist remained despite it all. She felt no remorse for what she did, not even when the news broke two weeks later that Simon Wolff had committed suicide. No change came about her, as if she was completely unaffected. And why wouldn’t she be, Wolff was a common last name, surely there wasn’t a relation. The only difference is that now, the Sanctum knew her little secret and they were keeping her tethered to reality.

as of right now, i have no wanted connections but i’m sure we’ll figure something out through plotting and simply figuring out how our characters interact with each other!

#intro.#untouchable:intro #⚞the sun ❣ about⚟