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1
The Badlands / Re: five thousand footsteps in your wet dress ― joining [o]
« Last post by NIKOLAI on July 26, 2021, 10:45:33 PM »
The ringing sound of a sole gunshot had alerted the prospective, who often gets up early anyways, usually to take a stroll down the boardwalk or explore the streets. Nik eliminated the possibility of shooting practice, as it was still pretty early in the morning and most folks were asleep, and only one gunshot led him to believe that someone ( or something ) had been shot.

Nikolai makes his way over towards the scene, dull gaze glowering down at the injured newcomer. Salem is treating its wound, having asked questions but it didn't give much of a solid answer... other than its name was Cue and that it apparently didn't know why it had been shot. "People don't just go wasting their ammo for no reason." Grunts Nikolai. Folks couldn't afford to waste such precious resources these days, so he isn't exactly buying what Cue is saying.

He slightly cocks a brow, huffing, "Considering it's barely light out, there's a number of things someone could have been doing so close to the city ― sneaking around, casing the joint, looking for a place to loot." Nik now furrows his brows, peering down at the injured individual. "So, which is it? Or are you gonna say the trigger was pulled by mistake?" After a few moments, Nikolai quickly glances over his shoulders. He realizes that there is no one with a gun present. "And who even shot you, anyways?" Surely they could give more insight on the situation, but they had seemingly disappeared.
2
The Badlands / Re: five thousand footsteps in your wet dress ― joining [o]
« Last post by cue on July 26, 2021, 01:31:42 AM »
Cue has little knowledge of the Badlands, or for that matter much of the region itself. If it had been trespassing, it was not aware. It only planned to pass through this town, collecting whatever food and clothing it could. The clothes on its back now are so worn and tattered, it figures it would be nice to have a change soon. It bears no real attachment to its current outfit, despite this particular jacket and pair of jeans having been with it since it had "woken up." It's been wearing the same thing for at least a year, maybe more, and it's all it's ever had to its name. Something warmer, less hole-y, would be nice.

In any other case, it would have been well aware of the groups residing in the region—these people are not by any means a small, insignificant fleck upon the earth, but a real force to be reckoned with. But the name is unfamiliar, and so is the territory, with buildings that blend together like the backdrop of a painting and people that serve as little more than side characters, unimportant details to the scene. It's hard to focus, even on the small crowd forming around it. Its eyes flit from person to person, all come to gawk, until it is handed from its assailant to another pair of arms like a small child. Cue is unimpressed.

Laid gently out on the ground, it comes face to face with a woman, with a gaze that is impossible to look away from. Salem might be preoccupied with its injury, but Cue finds something about her to be so striking, its eyes are stuck on her face. It only breaks away when it feels the sting of alcohol, mouth twisting into a bland grimace. Ouch. That does hurt. It sits and wallows in its own pain, with no tears or words to express it. Something akin to frustration rises in the pit of its stomach, but that too is muted, kept down by some invisible force within. It scrabbles at pavement below, digging its fingers into gravel and dirt. That is as much of a reaction as Salem will get. By Cue's standards, it might as well be in hysterics.

Had it been shot for trespassing? The guilty party, now free of its bloody burden, seems to have vanished into the crowd, or at least is camoflauged well enough for Cue to miss them. It only bothers to search for a brief moment before it turns back to Salem and offers her a useless shrug. It doesn't know.

"Cue," it says. "My name is Cue." The tone it uses, despite its best attempts to sound anything but, is hopelessly flat, lacking the slightest bit of inflection. It is aware it sounds robotic, but there's little it can do to help it. There's a vague want to not come off as rude or blunt, but obviously there is no other way it could come off. "I don't know why I was shot." 

Cue looks down at its leg, inspecting Salem's work. It's better than the jacket that had been loosely tied around its leg, resembling some form of actual medical care. It would have accepted just the jacket, too, but it won't complain about any free service. Of course, now that the wound has been tended to, this must mean it is free to go. With some effort, it pushes itself upright, and makes an attempt to stand on two feet. Of course, it doesn't get farther than a sitting position before a sharp, violent pang of pain shoots up its leg. Something like surprise appears on its face, and it eases itself back down, squeezing its eyes shut to suffer in silence. Ow. Who would have thought bullets hurt so bad?
3
The Badlands / Re: It's for the best // O
« Last post by NIKOLAI on July 26, 2021, 12:31:48 AM »
"About as graceless as a baby horse."

A wry comment slices through what was perhaps considered a casual, friendly conversation. Nikolai appears seemingly out of nowhere, though he has been observing the scene for several minutes. He was as silent as the night, having stealthily weaved through the abandoned streets towards the moonlit beach, the roar of crashing waves filling his ears. He is not here to pry, as he tends to be someone who is rather reserved and keeps to himself, though he cannot help but comment on Salem's, er, interesting display in the water.

A pale moon glistens within the pools of his dull, chocolate hued eyes. His neutral gaze is fixed on Salem after having glanced at Vesania briefly. Arms folded, the dark-dressed man inquires bluntly, "Do you actually know how to swim or are you trying to drown yourself?" Again, Nikolai could have done well with just keeping his distance and minding his own business, but boredom had him within its grasp. Plus, it was a bit odd to see people out on the beach at this hour. Was he interrupting something?
4
The Badlands / Re: five thousand footsteps in your wet dress ― joining [o]
« Last post by Salem on July 25, 2021, 11:48:31 PM »
text
SALEM
ENTRY #01
8.15.16
BL ENFORCER
//Got permission to have Salem grab/operate on Cue! CW for blood/alcohol

Salem had considered herself lucky because, since the town was usually under such strict surveillance by the big three, her job was easy. When she heard the gunshot, however, she knew immediately that there was trouble to be found.

Quickly grabbing her emergency first-aid kit that she had begun to compile over the past month, along with a bottle of vodka, she rushed out of the house and in the direction of the gunshot sound. Wandering the town, she had to ask multiple NPCs who had been shot, where the shot had come from, and whether or not it had been deadly. According to a few onlookers, it had been an outsider who was attacked, apparently by a fellow Badlander. Despite what anyone said - any type of warnings to stay away from the situation, that the outsider deserves to bleed out for trespassing - Salem continued to rush towards both the attacker and the victim. Eventually, she found them near the outskirts of the city, with the attacker calling for help.

"Don't worry, I'm a medic." Salem felt strange saying that - she never really expected this to be a part of her job, truth be told. She thought she'd be treating minor scrapes and sicknesses, not pulling a bullet out of a stranger's thigh. After taking Cue from its assailant and putting it down, Salem pulled out the bottle of alcohol and some cotton swabs she had brought with her. Not wanting to waste any time, she didn't even warn it about the pain before she soaked a cotton swab in alcohol and dabbed the wound and the surrounding area, trying her best to ignore the sticky warmth of the blood that now clung to her hands. She repeated this process over and over, caring less about the blood that coated its thigh than the wound itself. Once she was sure the wound was sterile,  Salem pulled out a long bandage and quickly secured it under Cue's wound as a tourniquet, hoping this would stop the bleeding. As a child, she had seen others do this to fellow members of the Northstar District whenever they ended up in fights.

"Are you alright? What's your name?" Salem asked once the bleeding had slowed slightly, hoping to keep Cue conscious. "I'm Salem. You're in Badlands territory. Did you get shot for tresspassing?"
 
VITALS
> overall status: 100%

> physical status: stable.
> physical health: 100%
> physical afflictions: none yet.
> minor injuries: none yet.
> major injuries: none yet.

> mental status: stable.
> current status: stable.
> mental health: 100%
> mental illnesses: None
> mental damage: None
TAGS
━ ━xGENERAL
> Elisa Barone | "Salem"
> Female
> 23
━ ━xAPPEARANCE
>Human
> Dark brown hair that varies in shade, pale, blue green eyes.
> Carries at least 2 cigars at a time, a small handgun, and a small switchblade.
> tall, lanky and a bit awkward physically.
>
━ ━xABILITIES
> N/A
> N/A
━ ━xCONFRONTATION
> medium physically | easy/medium mentally
> non-violent power-play allowed
> no kill | request maim/capture
> ask to attack in bolded, underlined and italicized black
━ ━xRELATIONSHIPS
> Lionel King x Melissa Barone
> UNBORN CHILD
> Half brother Rafe
> Half niece Gigi
> Cat Chrisanthymum "Chrissy"
>Bisexual | no crush
>
━ ━xOTHER
> this text + this color = this meaning
I'VE COME TOO FAR TO SEE THE END NOW
━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ even if my way is wrong
a small everyone. | beware hidden scrolling
5
The Badlands / Re: It's for the best // O
« Last post by Salem on July 25, 2021, 11:18:14 PM »
text
SALEM
ENTRY #01
8.15.16
BL ENFORCER
Salems ride on cloud nine quickly came to an end when she heard Ves's voice. Her head jolted up, disrupting the fully horizontal posture she had held, leaving her to flail around in the water. She had forgotten, albeit momentarily, that she didn't know how to swim.

She had pulled her legs up in order to thrash more effectively, though this was a mistake. The water wasn't too deep, actually; Salem could stand if she wanted to. Instead, she slowly sand and inhaled mouthfuls of saltwater until her feet finally grazed the bottom of the ocean floor. Relieved to have found some sort of solid ground, Salem stood straight up until the waves were only up to her chest and turned to face Ves while trying to stifle coughing up seawater.

It's the newcomer with the cat, She realized upon seeing him. She began to wade out of the water, not only because she didn't want to risk drowning again, but she also wanted to make sure that Chrissy, who was contentedly sniffing Twinkie, was safe. She had little doubt that Ves was a threat, considering he was a fellow cat owner, but she was no longer the type to be overly trusting of anyone, especially not here.

"Hello," Salem sputtered between coughs as she walked up towards her towel. She cleared her throat before continuing, now looming over a sitting Ves. "Vesania, correct? Salem. This is Chrisanthemum." She motioned towards Chrissy, who had stood up, uninterested in Twinkie, and begun to circle Salem, confused at her wet and dripping state.

 
VITALS
> overall status: 100%

> physical status: stable.
> physical health: 100%
> physical afflictions: none yet.
> minor injuries: none yet.
> major injuries: none yet.

> mental status: stable.
> current status: stable.
> mental health: 100%
> mental illnesses: None
> mental damage: None
TAGS
━ ━xGENERAL
> Elisa Barone | "Salem"
> Female
> 23
━ ━xAPPEARANCE
>Human
> Dark brown hair that varies in shade, pale, blue green eyes.
> Carries at least 2 cigars at a time, a small handgun, and a small switchblade.
> tall, lanky and a bit awkward physically.
>
━ ━xABILITIES
> N/A
> N/A
━ ━xCONFRONTATION
> medium physically | easy/medium mentally
> non-violent power-play allowed
> no kill | request maim/capture
> ask to attack in bolded, underlined and italicized black
━ ━xRELATIONSHIPS
> Lionel King x Melissa Barone
> UNBORN CHILD
> Half brother Rafe
> Half niece Gigi
> Cat Chrisanthymum "Chrissy"
>Bisexual | no crush
>
━ ━xOTHER
> this text + this color = this meaning
I'VE COME TOO FAR TO SEE THE END NOW
━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ even if my way is wrong
a small everyone. | beware hidden scrolling
6
The Badlands / The Border five thousand footsteps in your wet dress ― joining [o]
« Last post by cue on July 25, 2021, 09:56:19 AM »
At the crack of dawn, a shot can be heard. A single body falls to the ground with a faint thud, collapsing into a small pool of its own blood.

The bullet embedded in its leg feels like nothing but white-hot heat,  a painfully warm sensation that slowly spreads throughout its body. It lays in place, stunned, with a blank, wide-eyed look upon its face. It slowly reaches down to touch the wound, coming up with hands full of blood. In spite of the horror on its face, lip trembling, it doesn't make a sound. Glossy eyes turn to search the face of its panicked attacker, now come to its side to tend to the injury. A hand is laid over the wound, pressing its leg flat to the ground while they use the other to search desperately through their bag and pockets. They mumble something about a tourniquet.

"I am so, so sorry—" its attacker is frantic, sounding as though they are on the verge of tears. "I only wanted to scare you off, I thought you were going to attack me—oh, God, the safety was off."

Cue does not respond. It lays its head down on the ground and stares up at the sky, lips pressed into a thin line, feeling displeased. Some primitive instinct in the back of its head urges it to flail and scream, but its body is too disjointed from its own brain to follow the command. Rather it jerks with the pain, seemingly incapable of moving otherwise. Its attacker pauses in its effort to "save" it, tilting their head curiously.

"Does—doesn't that hurt?" they ask in a shaky voice.

"Yes, it hurts," Cue says curtly, face straight.

They return to their work, opting to peel their jacket from their body to serve as a makeshift tourniquet. It's tight, and the sensation is unpleasant, but it figures it could not be any worse than having been shot in the leg. It grits its teeth while its muscles spasm around broken bone and empty space, feeling the distinct sensation of something embedded into its flesh. Its attacker makes these panicked, uncertain sounds, little whimpers here and there as they work with unskilled hands. Cue turns its head some to watch, wondering what else that they could possibly do—it seems as though all there is to do now is wait for the wound to heal. Cue knows the process of convalescence well. The memory is fractured into bits and pieces, but it remembers being bed-riden for some time (though not of its own volition.) Some protesting feeling washes over it, and it grumbles incoherently at them, not wanting to be stuck in yet another bed. However, it's too quiet to get much of a response, drowned out by its attacker's own anxiety. Suddenly, two arms slip underneath it, and with little ceremony it is hoisted into the air, thrown over the shoulder of its attacker with some difficulty.

"Sorry, sorry," they say again, holding on tight to Cue's body. It may be lean, but it is certainly not light. "I'm—I'm gonna take you to someone that can actually help, okay? Sorry. Please don't hate me."

Cue says nothing. It allows itself to be carried through the city, leaving smatterings of blood here and there, like a trail of breadcrumbs. Meanwhile, the person hauling it calls out for help, arms braced tight around its body as though they fear they might drop it. It feels stable in their grip, but something about the way their hands are braced against its back feels strange. It provides a scrap of comfort, but it's hardly appreciated. It occurs to Cue, even in its own haze, that it should be slightly more upset, maybe afraid or panicked, having just been shot in the thigh by a stranger in an unfamiliar town. The danger it's in is likely immeasurable, and it could easily fall prey to anyone here, but it feels no sense of panic. Just the trickle of warm blood running down its thigh, the warmth of the body it's braced against, and the soft breeze blowing against the two of them.

7
The Badlands / Re: It's for the best // O
« Last post by VESANIA B. on July 24, 2021, 09:23:33 PM »

♔   Ves' dreams were almost always blank. The nights he dreamt were nights he knew where he could wake up without the cold stare, or the faceless image, of his parents. His mother's face was always muddled and missing, while his father would stare at him. He would get close and stare, whisper and scream about Ves' failures. The nights where Ves would dream were also restless nights. The visions that would bloom in his skull were not nice ones. Seeing his father's face when Ves pushed him. Watching him, crumpled up at the bottom of the stairs.

♔   Ves would often shoot up from his slumber, sitting upright and heaving. Twinkie would be at his side, jumping up onto her pudgy little paws and in his lap, patting his face while he sat there and stared. Ves never cried after these dreams. It was always a relief to watch his father fall. He just wished that Axel would understand that he did what he had to.

♔   The albino was currently walking along the streets of the Badlands, taking in the sights and learning where things were--not like he'd remember them, of course. Twinkie was happily cradled in his heavily tattooed arms, purring away and watching the world go by, in the shade of Ves' ridiculously large straw hat. She caught sight of Salem and her cat, her purring slowing down in curiosity. She chirped, as if watching a bird, and wiggled in Ves' arms until he put her down. She took off, and Ves went running after her.

♔   He often followed her blindly, having put so much trust into her. He grabbed onto the brim of his hat as he chased after, until they reached the beach. Twinkie's paws sunk into the sand and she immediately pulled back, shaking her paws and circling Ves' feet. He reached down to pick her up, his hat slipping off and making him grab it again. It was then that Ves noticed Salem, and, curious as ever, he followed her to the waterline, setting Twinkie down next to Chrissy.

♔   "Hello?" Ves spoke up, adjusting his hat.

♔   He watched her float in the ocean and sat down, pulling his legs under his hat's shade so the sun wouldn't bother him. He had learned the hard way (and from his brother's constant nagging), that the sun was not good for his seemingly fragile skin. Ves pet Twinkie while she stared at Chrissy, not wanting to get too close in case the other feline was not friendly. She laid down at Ves' side and decided to watch the ocean too.

♔   "TEXT!"

Spoiler: //tags — updated ;; 09/01/21 • show

general
> vesania bielschmidt | ves, vessie
> male ;; he/him
> 27 years ;; ages real time ;; april 18th
> badlands ;; loner / previous los santos leader

physical
> physical health ;; 90%
> minor injuries ;; n/a
> major injuries ;; n/a
> important things to note ;; situs inversus, the reverse/mirroring of major organs

appearance
> long, white hair ; pink-red eyes ; rather thin, small shoulders and wider hips ; 6'01" ; 160 lbs
> tattoos on his whole body, including face ; piercings all over body as well, including ears, left eyebrow, nose, tongue, chest, naval, and other spots ; forked tongue ; sharpened canines
> wears a patchy, old vest with a fur collar ; ripped skinny jeans ; no shoes
> carries a picture of his brother ; some pocket change ; possibly a flask
> important things to note ;; ves has albinism

personality
> very laid back and flirty ; he is easy-going and likes to make jokes ; hides a lot about himself ; really difficult to gain his trust ; just as easily to lose it ; doesn't settle well if he is getting bad vibes from somebody ; very childish when he trusts someone ; bit of a goofball ; very blunt when talking ; not worried about how his words may affect someone ; suspicious of people he first meets ; starts things if he knows he's gaining something from it
> adhd ; ptsd
> plays with his hair often ; blinks really hard during conversations ; is unable to make eye contact

relationships
> pheobe bielschmidt x henry bielschmidt ;; pheobe - m.i.a ; henry - deceased
     > henry passed in freak accident
     > pheobe went missing at scene of the crime
> axel bielschmidt ; chris bielschmidt ;; axel - alive ; chris - deceased
     > chris passed away due to an illness
> pansexual ; demiromantic
> no known crushes

interaction/confrontation
> easy mentally | medium physically
> has no filter | ALL IC OPINIONS
> non-violent power play allowed
> will not attack/kill/maim/capture without asking the author
> do not kill/maim/capture without asking me (timothy)
> if you want to attack, use this colour (red) and underline it

misc importance
> "this is him talking." ;; his speech is in italics
> this is him thinking ;; thoughts are in italics
8
Announcements / Re: activity notice!
« Last post by timothy on July 24, 2021, 08:44:20 PM »
TRADE ALL MY TOMORROWS FOR JUST ONE YESTERDAY,

okay!!! i hope you stay safe <3333
you know full well i'm around on discord HHKEJSBGE
even if you can't post ic i'm always down for some plotting!
i hope you have fun out there!!!!! send lots of pics of those baby cows!!!
9
Flintlock Lodge / Re: blood's thicker than water — open.
« Last post by JOSEPHINE on July 24, 2021, 06:57:39 AM »
even if will was freaking her out with his new found drive to be a dad, him being gone made the lodge even more boring. and there is a small piece of her that’s jealous she wasn’t able to go on this secret mission thing; okay, maybe it’s a big part of her. joey tried staying occupied, but when two of the most fun people are gone, it wasn’t too easy. she likes the banter and trouble they stirred up. so, in other words, joey is waiting for william and freddie’s return.

word about them being home began to spread, but it’s in whispers with voices hushed and low, something doesn’t feel right. joey takes in a quick breath, smacking at rosie’s hands as they pulled at her hair as she starts walking towards eddie’s office, her heart beat betting faster and faster until she nearly busts into the door, eyes shooting from eddie to the other man on the couch. thank god, will’s okay. the air has a tension to it that lets her know everything isn’t good, fred being nowhere to be seen… it only takes her a few moments to realize: he’s dead. joey sighs, grabbing rosie’s hands out of her hair again while sitting on the corner of the armchair with him, examining his face and following his eyes. he felt different, but it isn’t quite grief. her eyes dart to eddie for a moment then back to will. joey can’t exactly put her finger on it, but something is definitely wrong. ” i’m sorry, “ she breathes, forcing herself to write his odd behavior off on shock. joey leans back on him gently, resting her check on his head.


Spoiler: tags, updated 03/28/2021 • show
BASICSI HAD A DREAM
&. ❝ josephine elena van doren ❞ |  joey, hoey | female [ she/her ] .
&. 22 years old . | november first ; scorpio .
&. reaper of flintlock lodge .

PERSONALITYGOT EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED
&. impulsive . outgoing . femme fatale . flirtatious . seemingly emotionless . guarded . self-destructive . obsessive . hot headed . reckless . kleptomania tendencies . selfish . brat .  assertive . loyal to those close to her . intuitive . stubborn . passionate . self-preserving . quick . nosey . reliable . non-committal . determined . secretive . resentful . resourceful . distrusting .

APPEARANCENOT WHAT YOU THINK
&.  five foot six & one hundred and seventeen pounds ; reference .
↳ blonde hair just past her collarbone, grows a dirtier blonde, lightening up as soon as any sun touches it .
↳ slim, muscular build. legs on the longer side .
↳ big blue/green doe eyes, light yet well-groomed eyebrows, full lips, dimples .

INTERACTIONSAND IF I’M BEING HONEST
&.  [ 8/10 ] physically  |  [ 9/10 ] psychologically .
↳ difficulty w/ guns [ medium ] | difficulty w/ melees [ hard ] | difficulty w/ hand-to-hand [ hard ]
↳ combat information .
&. attack in bold #990000 | @scully | PM for any major plots .
&. friendly or nonviolent actions may be powerplayed .

INVENTORYIT MIGHT’VE BEEN A NIGHTMARE
&. [ 2 ] weapons | [ 0 ] armor pieces | [ 0 ] consumables | [ 2 ] aid items | [ 1 ] misc .
↳ one combat knife .
↳ a three piece throwing knife set
↳ a bracelet from her late mother, each one of her sisters has a piece to the same set, their mother having the biggest piece

RELATIONSHIPSTO ANYONE WHO MIGHT CARE
&. elizabeth van doren (npc) x malcolm van doren (npc) | second youngest of nine children .
↳ cassian van doren, eldest, flintlock .
↳ beau van doren, second eldest, unknown .
↳ range rover van doren, unknown .
↳ scarlett van doren, flintlock .
↳ tara van doren, unknown .
↳ julian van doren, flintlock .
↳ maxine van doren, just older than joey, flintlock .
↳ richard van doren, youngest, deceased .
↳ lucky van doren, cousin, flintlock .
&. pansexual, panromantic ; mongamous  . | scared of commitment, however enjoys casual fun .
&. lover to william stirling
↳ reoccurring friends with benefits.
↳ parents to rosalie willa van doren, seven months old .
&. lover to theodore knope
↳ partner in the badlands
&. crushing on cassidy van den bergh
10
Flintlock Lodge / Re: nothing's gonna hurt you — open.
« Last post by JOSEPHINE on July 24, 2021, 06:10:30 AM »
life within the lodge has become somewhat of a drag. routine and structured, she’s bored. joey feels like she’s stuck in a room that’s perpetually getting smaller and smaller and smaller. it’s a suffocating feeling, like someone is taking a vacuum and is sucking the air out at the same time. escape fantasies now live rent free in her head, grease constantly turning on how to spice things up. she’s had no excitement since the war, far too long of such mundane things.

there is another cause that’s started to gnaw away at her: william stirling playing house. it’s a sight that joey never thought she’d see. sure, was she desperate for him to help out with the parasite he created? yes. but, she never wanted a domestic life, just wanted someone to dump the kid off with that really couldn’t say no; he’s seemed to have a different idea.

with slightly pursed lips, josephine enters the kitchen, a paper and pen in hand. she heard a familiar voice from the hallway, etching a small smile onto her lips, even if she was less than thrilled about his recent decisions, it’s subconscious at this point. that is until she spots them. then she heard the god awful toddler noises. joey’s smile scrunches up along with her nose and eyebrows, is this really her life now? servants to some dripping rollie pollie who can’t even eat on its own? the images of some grossly underwhelming future flash through her head, causing her to physically retract. eyes shut tight, she hopes she’s just mistaken someone else for them, but when she slowly squints them back open, it just confirms it. joey gives a shake of her head, an intense urge to flee over washing her. ” forgot something, “ it’s all she can come up with on her feet, pairing it with a little laugh as she backs out of the kitchen.

maybe her and will weren’t as similar or as compatible as she always believed. the air around her starts to feel thick, like everything is closing in on joey; something that started with the death of her brother and may be coming to a head now.


Spoiler: tags, updated 03/28/2021 • show
BASICSI HAD A DREAM
&. ❝ josephine elena van doren ❞ |  joey, hoey | female [ she/her ] .
&. 22 years old . | november first ; scorpio .
&. reaper of flintlock lodge .

PERSONALITYGOT EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED
&. impulsive . outgoing . femme fatale . flirtatious . seemingly emotionless . guarded . self-destructive . obsessive . hot headed . reckless . kleptomania tendencies . selfish . brat .  assertive . loyal to those close to her . intuitive . stubborn . passionate . self-preserving . quick . nosey . reliable . non-committal . determined . secretive . resentful . resourceful . distrusting .

APPEARANCENOT WHAT YOU THINK
&.  five foot six & one hundred and seventeen pounds ; reference .
↳ blonde hair just past her collarbone, grows a dirtier blonde, lightening up as soon as any sun touches it .
↳ slim, muscular build. legs on the longer side .
↳ big blue/green doe eyes, light yet well-groomed eyebrows, full lips, dimples .

INTERACTIONSAND IF I’M BEING HONEST
&.  [ 8/10 ] physically  |  [ 9/10 ] psychologically .
↳ difficulty w/ guns [ medium ] | difficulty w/ melees [ hard ] | difficulty w/ hand-to-hand [ hard ]
↳ combat information .
&. attack in bold #990000 | @scully | PM for any major plots .
&. friendly or nonviolent actions may be powerplayed .

INVENTORYIT MIGHT’VE BEEN A NIGHTMARE
&. [ 2 ] weapons | [ 0 ] armor pieces | [ 0 ] consumables | [ 2 ] aid items | [ 1 ] misc .
↳ one combat knife .
↳ a three piece throwing knife set
↳ a bracelet from her late mother, each one of her sisters has a piece to the same set, their mother having the biggest piece

RELATIONSHIPSTO ANYONE WHO MIGHT CARE
&. elizabeth van doren (npc) x malcolm van doren (npc) | second youngest of nine children .
↳ cassian van doren, eldest, flintlock .
↳ beau van doren, second eldest, unknown .
↳ range rover van doren, unknown .
↳ scarlett van doren, flintlock .
↳ tara van doren, unknown .
↳ julian van doren, flintlock .
↳ maxine van doren, just older than joey, flintlock .
↳ richard van doren, youngest, deceased .
↳ lucky van doren, cousin, flintlock .
&. pansexual, panromantic ; mongamous  . | scared of commitment, however enjoys casual fun .
&. lover to william stirling
↳ reoccurring friends with benefits.
↳ parents to rosalie willa van doren, seven months old .
&. lover to theodore knope
↳ partner in the badlands
&. crushing on cassidy van den bergh
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