#talkvig
Photo
“Icarus flew too close to the sun, but at least he flew.”
@bo-abrams as Icarus
21 notes
·
View notes
Photo
TL;DR: Despite neither parent having a clue how to deal with a little genius like Lyra, Mom and Dad are great. Aunt Evelyn is wild and reckless and free. Uncle Ben tries. Grandma and Grandpa are okay.
Parents:
Noah Rey. 55. FC: Demian Bichir. Noah grew up in a large family (the fourth child of five) and was used to the endless fighting among his siblings. On their family farm, they were expected to work hard and not ask questions. Noah was the first to go to college and never looked back once he left the small town he grew up in. This makes his relationship with his family very strained at best, as they believe he abandoned them for money.
No matter what, Lyra has always been close with her father. Perhaps it was their shared love of science fiction or the correlation in their chosen fields of study, but the two were two peas in a pod. He instilled in her a similar work ethic his parents raised him with, which (as per usual) Lyra takes a little too seriously by diving herself head first into work. Although he often felt out of depth with having a daughter who seemed smarter than him sometimes, he did his best to give her a happy childhood. No matter what, he takes joy in always getting his little girl to smile.
Cassidy Rey (nee Warren). 57. FC: Diane Lane. Born and raised in Newhaven, Cassidy was the only child for a good portion of her life until her younger sister was born during her teenage years. Her parents were both psychologists and were very popular among the wealthy circles in the city, often causing them to treat Cassidy as more of a trophy. She was distant from her parents due to latent resentment from her rebellious young adult phase, but made an effort to mend their relationship once Lyra was born.
Lyra’s mother has always been her backbone. While her father could make her feel better, her mother had the unnatural talent of making Lyra believe she could do anything. Cassidy always tried to push her, sometimes too much, and Lyra was all to eager to accept the challenge. They both like being right, which lead to many fights between the two, and Cassidy could never quite connect to her daughter the way that Noah was able to. Despite their arguments and misunderstandings, there was always a great amount of love and respect toward each other and Lyra often confines in her mother about most of the events in her life.
Grandparents:
Lyra never actually met her paternal grandparents. She is aware that her grandfather had died before she was born, but she has only heard of her grandmother in stories.
Wyatt Warren. 88. FC: Robert Duvall. Technically the first to name her genius (a fact he never lets her forget), Wyatt is very proud of his granddaughter. He has always insisted that intelligence ran in his family and that Lyra is just the next generation of that trait. He was a man who loved the finer things, often showing off his accomplishments and degrees to anyone who would listen to him. Lyra, too, became another thing for him to show off to his wealthy old clients at a Christmas party, but luckily for him, she never minded.
Alice Warren. 85. FC: Ellen Burstyn. Tending to be on the judgmental side, Alice has always been a woman who speaks her mind. After several successful years as a psychologist, she prides herself in being able to read people. Lyra is no different. Alice actively disagreed with how her parents raised her and insisted she remain with students her own age. Regardless, she is proud of her accomplishments, even if she does mutter an “I told you so” every time Lyra does something socially awkward.
Extended Family:
As stated, Lyra’s father has a lot of older siblings that Lyra knows very little of. When she was younger, her father would take her to his eldest brother’s farm where her cousins would torment her. She is aware that she has more family on his side, but she has no need or desire to truly meet them.
Benjamin Rey. 53. FC: Eugenio Derbez. As the youngest of the Rey siblings, Ben looked up to his brother Noah. While not quite smart enough to get into a university, Noah did help him go out on his own when he tried to leave their home town. Even though Ben eventually moved back home, he never felt any ill will toward Noah like their other siblings did. He is the only one that visits them at least twice a year. Noah appreciates it, even if Lyra finds it so weird that the two are related when they are nothing alike.
Evelyn Warren. 41. FC: Katie Holmes. The accident little sister has always been a little on the crazy side. She benefited from having parents that were a too old to discipline as they used to and an older sister who moved out as soon as she was accepted into college. She was prone to doing what she wanted when she wanted. Despite that, she was determined to be the best aunt ever. She was their go to babysitter for a long time and Lyra has clear memories of Evelyn teaching her how to put on her makeup and wear pretty dresses. The two are close and no matter what, Evelyn is always there for her birthday every year.
#promptvig#talkvig#family tree#mom#dad#dr rey#;so much#im brain ded#also it's tragic how hard it was to find adequate fcs for lyra's father's side
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
#hurt/comfort, #bedsharing, #rescue mission, #BlueBird
(A/N: Hey folks, back again with some BlueBird for you! You all liked the last one so much I had to post this one even though I wasn’t planning to. Huge props to Moxie for being my beta, I wouldn’t get anything done without her! As always, make sure to comment, I thrive on your feedback XO)
Blue Bolt had been the only one patrolling that could get to the beacon. Or get there quickly at the very least. There had been a minor argument with Red River and Anima about whether they should go hunt down Pitch for help, but no one had any clues about where to start looking. A dead end before they’d even started. Blue wasn’t going to wait around for something to come up. And he wasn’t going to go slow enough for either of the others to keep up. If Pitch cared enough to help Nightingale, he could do it whenever he found out. The other two knew where he was going, and it wasn’t like the trip would take him very long.
The suit sped through the snow and winter air like a bullet. It was sturdy and powerful enough to be completely unaffected by the winds and speeds caused by the speed he was pushing it to maintain. The automated systems were locked onto the safety beacons everyone had been equipped with ‘in case of emergency’. Blue hadn’t thought that Nightingale would ever be far enough away to need it. But she’d found evidence that someone was hurt in a cabin outside the city borders and dashed off into the wilderness without backup, and Blue Bolt could only fear the worst.
Similarly to the snowflakes mere inches away from his face, scenario after scenario passed through his mind, imagined images of Nightingale injured or captured and kidnapped putting steel in his eyes and an extra charge to his boots. The engines propelling him forward began to whine as he ignored the usual overrides that prevented him from overtaxing the electrical system. He’d be damned if he let anything happen to the brightest light in Newhaven.
The whine turned to sputters as the building came into view. As he lost altitude, he turned off all the systems not related to impact cushioning or propulsion. The suit would be difficult to carry through the snow, he needed to get as close as possible. A mere minute and a half later, there was a thud and poof of steam as the suit hit snow and instantly sublimated the icy particles. Blue Bolt wrestled his way out of the suit’s constraints to climb out of the hole. He groaned when he realized there was still a good thirty feet between him and shelter, but he couldn’t leave the suit to check around- he’d have to drag it with him to keep it from being buried by the continuing snowfall.
He managed to be fairly quiet as he forced the metal through the snow and ice. He managed to tuck it under a dry part of the deck while scanning the nearby area. There was no sign of life anywhere nearby. Even the local wildlife was clearly bundled up to avoid the cold. Blue Bolt pulled an electric baton from the suit- even when the suit itself was drained his weapon maintained a charge.
He made his way to the front door, tapping it lightly and swearing quietly when it creaked open. There didn’t seem to be any response, but now that it was open he could hear the beacon beeping away inside. Heart sinking, he shouldered his way in, only to freeze in surprise at the sight of three bodies on the floor. He checked each for a pulse and found none. None of the men were breathing, but the streaks under their skin were clear signs of a very particular attack.
He quietly made his way towards the sound of the beacon, checking corners as he passed. The last room down the hallway seemed to be the bedroom, and Blue could only pray that Nightingale hadn’t left without the beacon. Of course, seeing her slumped on the floor next to the bed wasn’t a good option either. He swore again and ran to check her vitals.
Her skin was cold to the touch- her suit never did help much in extreme weather, but she was breathing. There was a small graze on her leg, clearly one of the men had managed to get a shot off before she struck. He dashed to the bathroom, rifling through cabinets. He nearly sobbed when he found the first aid kit- there weren’t exactly medical supplies on standby in the suit. Back at her side, he disinfected and wrapped the wound.
The closet was stocked with blankets, but not much else- clearly no one was living here at the moment. He bundled Nightingale up as much as he could and lay her on the bed- there was one thing he still had to do before he could focus on combating her hypothermia. It took several minutes to get the suit up the stairs to the front door. Blue cursed the fact that he hadn’t thought to make the thing of a lighter material. But once it was inside, it was fairly easy to find an outlet. After a few minutes of testing, he was satisfied that the suit would be able to charge over the next several hours. On his way back down the hall he searched for a heating system, but to no avail.
When he’d returned to the bedroom, he was gratified to see that Nightingale was shivering. At least now her body was trying to heat itself rather than succumb to the elements. He hesitated before peeling the layers of blankets away. When Nightingale groaned and attempted to curl in on herself, he shushed her gently, tucking her hair behind her ear. He peeled off his shirt before slipping it over her head and arms. The extra layer over her suit might not do much, but it was better than the suit alone.
There was a long moment before he sighed and got to work. Massaging her hands to get the blood flowing to her fingers was easy enough. Figuring how to get those damned boots off? An entirely different story. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought that he was being bested by womens footwear. Once they’d finally fallen to the floor however, a frown settled on his face. Her toes weren’t blue or purple, they were white. He exhaled into his hands to speed the process and did his best to gently work the blood back to a normal flow through her feet.
It took nearly an hour of switching between limbs before he was satisfied that her body wouldn’t shut down the blood flow again. He let out a shaky sigh as the adrenaline crash swept over him. He felt his face soften as he looked down at her. There was a crease between her eyebrows, some unconscious frown pulling at the muscles. He smoothed over it with a swipe of his thumb, gratified by the way her entire face relaxed.
He began to pile the blankets back on top of her, murmuring small comforts as she shifted under the new weight. He allowed himself to run his hand through her hair one last time before straightening to stretch. A soft whimper drew his attention back down, and he cursed as he saw she was shivering again. Berating himself for thinking her body could keep itself warm even with blankets, he lifted the edge of the pile and slide under himself.
He hadn’t realized how cold he’d been in just his pants until his body heat was being contained again. He carefully drew her slight form towards him, leaving plenty of room between- though not so much that she wouldn’t gain heat from him. He began to murmur softly to her once more in an attempt to provide comfort, though whether it was to her or himself he wasn’t sure. It was a long while later, but sleep found him under that pile.
He hadn’t planned for it, but the next morning, he would wake to find Nightingale pressed against him, breathing steady and pulse strong. He would wake her gently explain what had happened. She would be wrapped in several blankets in preparation for the journey. He would climb back into the suit and then he would carry her on the long flight back to Newhaven.
If the suit was his shield from the dangers of the world, he would be hers.
#taskvig fill#task7#c:nightingale#c:blue bolt#no dialogue was an interesting challenge#and i still made it so much fucking longer than the darksea one wtf#i guess this is what happens when i actually ship the thing??#lyra dont at me about ur suit i know its wrong#talkvig#also i highkey stopped referring to him by name bc i realized this is probably the kind of fic talon would read and imagine its him#once he got past the beginning
5 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Following the letter from Mayor Winsor, all Vigilante activity is being cracked down on harder than ever before. The police have been instructed to act on any reports tied towards the masked heroes of Newhaven but until the law has been officially passed they cannot be arrested for anything that would stick. Yet. Where they may have once been gratefully thanked for saving a civilian they may now encounter someone who is thoroughly against everything they do, or simply prejudiced against those with special gifts.
Tensions are clearly on the rise between those in the city who believe the Vigilantes are a source for good and those who see them, and those with powers, as a blight to Newhaven. With the recent published address from the Mayor's office, those against have been given a new platform and confidence to voice their opinion more openly. However with the upcoming annual festival there is an opportunity for those opposed to the proposal to stage protests that could gain the right kinds of attention. Those who wish to take to social platforms to raise awareness to the cause, and perhaps sway a few in the undecided camp in their direction, are encouraged to do so.
Any and all future threads involving one or more of the Vigilantes should be written with the potential added danger and implications this roleplay wide plot drop bring - you’re encouraged to find ways to implement this plot drop into your threads (both closed and open) going forward.
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Villain name: Persona (Karzon Gideon Fli)
Face claim: Josh Hutcherson
Age: 19 years old
Species: Human
Powers & Abilities/Specialties: Power mimicry---
Persona’s ability entirely relies on the individual he is fighting to have a power themselves. Through the use of skin to skin contact he is able to mimic a person’s ability to an extent. The strength at which he produces said ability is determined by how much he understands the control and workings of the power. While there is technically no limit to which power’s he can mimic, any ability that changes the body physically or molecularly takes a damaging toll. There is no time limit to his mimicry, but, if he brushes his own skin together (usually done by swiping his hands) it cancels out the effects of his power. His ability does not steal the other person’s power from them it is simply copying what they have, and unlike Spectrum who is able to store abilities Persona cannot recall powers he once used.
Backstory: Karzon never had a semblance of a normal life but from the hushed stories his older brother told him their family hadn’t always been that way. He yearned for the days his mother would return his love and affection with anything but harsh words and scowls. His wish came true when their father had died on the water during an excavation for the navy, without the protection of his father’s weary looks his mother’s tongue lashings gradually turned into beatings. Being plagued with regular illnesses he could do little to protect himself having to rely entirely on his older brother who could only take so much.
At the age of eight he discovered his unique ability to borrow other’s strengths, but like most happy moments in his life his mother twisted the discovery into something horrible. With a wicked smile she berated the young child saying he had been cursed with the power to steal from everyone he touched, and because of the lie he lived in fear of his gift. Only when Spectrum appeared a few years later did he realize how special what he had was, but his mother didn’t appreciate the uplift in her youngest child’s mood and turned once again to beating. In what Karzon originally viewed as a stroke of luck the small family won a meet and greet with the famed hero, so he devised a plan to ask the super to save him and his brother from their evil mother. The plan ultimately failed, Spectrum was too busy to pay attention to the child’s cryptic signs and at the end of the day Karzon was sent back home to an abusive environment with a grudge against the only person he thought could save them.
At the age of eleven his mother remarried to a man with little interest in children, especially his own. The family grew substantially in size, three growing to six with the introduction of a caring stepbrother and stepsister and another on the way. With his mother and ‘father’ being too invested in themselves to pay attention to their children the four were left in peace and created a close bond. Though, at the age of thirteen it was revealed that his mother had a sister who had caught wind of the situation the now five were in and brought the adults to court to fight for custody. She won, but received only four children. Karzon was left in the home. Being the only child once again all attention was on him.
At the age of sixteen he learned that the only person he could trust and rely on was himself. In the dead of night he set fire to the house and escaped, leaving the mother and father to get out through their own means. Being young and alone he looked for a way to make a quick buck, he joined the ranks of the BO$$ and lied his way up until gaining the title of info broker. Although he didn’t entirely know what the job entailed at first, he was fucking great at it. It wasn’t long before he broke away from the gang leader and begun his own lucrative business learning secrets and selling them for high prices. His name spread fast amongst the world of thugs as the guy to go to if you want the information of how and when to kill, and the thugs learned quickly that working with the kid meant giving up your own secrets as well. No one was safe from the eyes of Persona.
Now nineteen he is a business of three, using his lackeys for quick access to strong abilities and outs during sticky situations. While he still sells secrets of other thugs to, well, thugs, his main focus is on the vigilantes. His cocky nature is not unknown to the nighttime heroes as he is known to appear during uncompromising situations and disappear before he is caught. His name is whispered with an unease from every individual he has come into contact with.
Moral Alignment: Neutral Evil
Criminal MO: Since he and the general thug population consider him to be a villain for hire he doesn’t have one particular way of committing crimes that he’s comfortable with. He’s a jack of all trades and prides himself in being such. Absolutely anyone can be his target, it entirely depends on what his client’s wishes are. While he says he deals strictly in providing information he isn’t against harming an individual if the price is right, though he is against killing others. He is not a hired hitman and he’d rather not face prison time for murder if he eventually gets caught. With that being said he is careful enough to rarely have his crimes traced back to him, and even if they are he has changed his appearance enough that the evidence doesn’t match. Leaving the police to make the decision that catching this villain is entirely up to the vigilantes.
When dealing with heroes he prefers not to launch into combat and would rather avoid an unnecessary tussle. He utilizes the fear factor first, revealing secrets that the vigilantes would rather the world and their partners not know. If that doesn’t work he uses guilt, hoping his young age will tug at the heroes heartstrings and prevent any major harm from coming his way. If, in an odd turn of events, both of those routes fail he will take an offensive fighting position to ward them off.
Extra Info:
His line of work prevents him from having an ‘arch nemesis’ since he is continuously jumping around. He has run into every vigilante for varying amounts of time but has picked up an almost unhealthy obsession with both Legacy and Watcher. Legacy’s fame has created a beautiful gold mine of secrets that is never-ending, and his ability to attract other vigilantes supplies useful data. Watcher, on the other hand, is a bit different, Persona is attracted to his age and lack of abilities. A very small part of him believes they could be friends if the circumstances were different.
He has a base of operations where he can be contacted at by phone but the line is seemingly untraceable so the base’s whereabouts are still unknown.
He has a burning hatred towards Mainframe, not that the villain has done anything to spite him. He simply doesn’t agree with Mainframe’s reason for becoming evil: “You’re not special. You became a villain to throw a fit like a spoiled child.”
((Because of the hatred he doesn’t particularly like either Blue bolt or Shutdown.))
While he has no opinions about heroes and vigilantes in general, he isn’t entirely fond of Spectrum. He yearns for the day when he can stare the god-like man in the eyes and tell him “I’m what becomes of the children you do not save.”
He doesn’t have a costume since that would make it easier to identify him and his entire being must stay amongst the whispers. Though he does have what could be considered a sigil but is thought to be more of a marking. A simple graffitied picture of a forget-me-not.
Although he doesn’t like to see people die, he enjoys seeing others suffer. He believes that is the best way to experience human nature, through suffering.
Only a select few know his actual name, since he believes that names hold power. He goes by Persona in both the thug and villain realm.
He thinks of everything as a game, and he needs to be continuously winning. He understands that the best way to conquer a foe such as himself is to manipulate the rules of the game, so he pays careful attention to make sure that is never possible.
Character song: https://youtu.be/wzKTtoMC-uY
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Task 4: The Guild –– Ora
Guild Member Name: Ora , (Bridget Welsh)
Face Claim: Aislinn Paul
Age: 22
Species: Human
Powers & Abilities: Chronokenisis
Backstory: Bridget Welsh always had a quite nervous disposition. Quiet for most of her life, she had learned to make herself more likable by adapting a dry, ironic humor. It served as a good defense mechanism against any bullies that tried to bring her down as she went through the trials and tribulations of puberty. As she got older, however, she became more and more reserved. That witty, sardonic humor became reserved for those closest to her. The rest of the world, in turn, saw a quiet girl with a bright mind and, every so often, a silver tongue.
Problems arose, however, when Bridget hit high school. Taking tests would have her face and hands going numb. her whole body would tremble at the thought of verbal confrontation. Small, insignificant things would make her heart race and her brain fall down dark, terrifying hypotheticals. Getting up in the morning became more and more difficult as dread seeped into her bones. Dread of going to school, hinged around the possibility of failure.
Things came to a head during a pivotal moment in her academic career: her SATs. Her test-taking anxieties skyrocketed, the constant reminder of the ticking clock weighing on her like shackles bound to her desk. She’d studied, gotten tutoring, but very little could prepare her for the pressure when the time came. Her hands shook so much she could barely fill in the Scantron sheet in front of her. Hell, she couldn’t even feel her hands, or her feet, or the tip of her nose. Bridget felt sick to her stomach, positive she’d faint soon as tears began to well in her eyes. This was it. The end of her academic career and, by proxy, the rest of her life. The overstimulation of it all flooded her system, the air growing heavy, body going electric with adrenaline and panic until –––
It stopped. Not the anxiety, not the fear, but everything. The world around Bridget completely froze, the room falling quiet as her fellow students stilled, along with the moderator, her mouth agape in preparation to speak. Dumbfounded, Bridget looked up to see that the clock, too, had stopped in its motion. Time itself had come to a halt. All except for her.
To some, maybe this would have incited more hysteria. But all Bridget felt was the most acute sense of relief. Maybe she’d fallen off the deep end, she figured, but even if she had this was precisely what she needed. She had all the time in the world, quite literally; the least she could do was take a damn breath and collect herself. She even stood, marveled at how she could still push back her chair and walk around without anything snapping back around her. She got water, let herself sharpen her pencil, even stared at the ceiling for a good while before filling in more test answers. It was only when, consciously, she decided she was ready to return to the real world that time resumed with a jump, the moderator appropriately announcing the remaining thirty minutes left to the test. With newfound confidence, Bridget continued, her alter-ego Ora formulating in the back of her brain as she sped ahead of her peers.
Work as a supposed superhero came slowly to Bridget, not much of the fighting type if truth be told. It took quite a bit of personal practice for her to hone her ability without sending herself into body-numbing panic. The trigger, she found, was a definite and concentrated need for time to cease, its mere fabric stopping in its infinite weaving at her own will. By proxy, resuming of time came with purposeful permission to do so. It relieved her, knowing her power was completely intentional and not heavily prone to accident. That is, of course, save for a few exceptions: angry fights, low emotional points, or even times of high excitement. The conscious decision to return, though, always kept her safe.
Telling her parents proved difficult; how can you explain to someone a power which they cannot perceive? Evidently, by using your time-without-time to move quite a few things around the kitchen, spilling milk and inverting pots, to make big enough of an impact. Immediately, Bridget’s mother took to highlighting news events, especially with the rise of Spectrum patrolling Newhaven. Her father even got her bits and pieces of steampunk-esque attire from Halloween stores for her, and many holidays were filled with bits and pieces of costume paraphernalia for what they disguised as ‘cosplay’ to non-knowing relatives. Bridget’s younger brother even helped her design her sigil. So, Bridget –– Ora –– began to work in consistent bursts: her temporal interruption perfect for throwing any evil-doers off balance and letting her move to a safe place before damage befell her.
Such covert tactics, ironically, got the attention of the Guild relatively quickly. More of a flashy bunch, the Guild seemed keen for a member with less austere tactics and abilities. Under their wing, and within the safety of the Guild’s headquarters. Ora has begun to flex her temporal muscles, just beginning to explore what other variations of time manipulation she can slip into her wheelhouse.
Furthermore, she’s learning to rebuild her confidence; a superhero cannot go around with their head ducked whilst in costume, anyway. The surplus of fellow feminine company obviously helps. Maternal and sister-like figures have thus far helped Bridget to be more open in her dry humor, and even with her own physique as what one would assume is an ‘active’ member of the community, despite her general lack of a quick pace in her tactics. The older gentlemen within the Guild treat her akin to a sister, which also helps in feeling less awkward walking around the halls of HQ. It’s only the new kid, Atlas, that seems to set her stomach to flipping, and she’s slowly starting to figure out why...
Overall, Bridget is a nervous, intelligent, and sweet soul. More one to look before jumping, she sometimes comes off as overly trepidatious. But get her annoyed enough, and she can have quite an impish and mischievous streak. Anger in Bridget brings with it rash thinking and a spike in impulse, usually offset by her own ability. Maybe she’s still a bit trapped in herself, deep down. But that’s nothing constantly trying to save the world cannot fix.
Moral Alignment: Neutral Good
Signature Move: Temporal Interruption –– To put it simply, Ora can stop time; think Zack Morris from Saved by the Bell. Everything freezes around Ora, and she can go around, move things as she pleases, take a nap, go get intel, whack a few people upside the head. Whatever she needs to do, she can, all whilst everyone around her perceives that she did so in a blink of an eye.
Extra Info:
Sigil: A clock with slightly bent hands, a la ‘Alice in Wonderland’, Mad Hatter sort of deal.
Diagnoses: Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Panic Attacks, mild OCPD.
Family:
Mother –– Tara Welsh née Skulkin. Copy Editor, detail-fanatic, socially conscious. Will be the person to go to local protests fr liberal social change, but also the person to correct grammar on posters.Maybe a hair too much on the pulse of current events.
Father –– Emmett Welsh. Convention Organizer, not-so-closeted Nerd-of-All-Things. The type of person that offers to plan every party you so much as suggest you might be thinking of having. Hellbent on tight scheduling.
Younger Brother –– Marcus Welsh. Currently 17, Student, aspiring Graphic Designer. For ‘some reason’, very much into making Ora fan art and Guild promotional posters. Gets sick to his stomach whenever his friends mention wanting to get any type of romantic with his sister or with Ora, which obviously have ‘no correlation whatsoever’.
Color Scheme: Bronze, brown, black.
4 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Prompt 004: Family Tree -- the Yu family
Sung-Min Yu: 54, male, Chun Ho Jin FC: Quiet, stoic, and hardworking, Sung-Min was optimistic about starting a life in America. He’s imprinted his hardworking attitudes on all three of his daughters, and is usually proud of them.
Mi-Young Yu: 50, female, Margaret Cho FC: Head of her household and the main decision maker, Mi-Young moved to America with her husband a few months after they got married. She’s unafraid to make herself heard.
Grace Yu: 28, female, Bae Suzy FC: Grace was born shortly after the Yu parents moved to America, and eagerly adjusted to farm life. She found herself enjoying taking care of the animals most of all, and now takes care of the majority of them. She’s demure and sweet, but if anyone threatens her sisters, she can get very loud very quickly.
Hannah Yu: 25, female, Kim Ji Won FC: Since she’s moved away, Hannah is the black sheep of the Yu family, and she’s aware of it. Her defiance got her in trouble plenty growing up, and she knows it’ll only get worse as she stays away. She’s afraid to go back to the farm, even though she won’t admit it.
Rebecca Yu: 22, female, Shin Se Kyung FC: The youngest Yu, Rebecca is a mix of both of her sisters. She’s a sweetheart like Grace, but isn’t afraid to defy things she disagrees with like Hannah. She does a lot of the cooking for the meals the family sells and provides, and is secretly considering going to culinary school.
3 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Rolan Naysmith || Father || fc: Ewan McGregor
Born and raised in the heart of Newhaven as a proper city boy. Rolan made a name for himself in bioengineering as a contracted worker for Hyperion Enterprises, taking on multiple jobs for the company as a young father to keep his family afloat. While he was away, he made it a point to provide for his family and be a present figure in their lives up until his untimely death. After almost eight years since passing, the surviving Naysmiths are still dealing with roadblocks involving life-insurance payouts which have been mysteriously difficult to obtain the full value of.
Miria Naysmith || Mother || fc: Melissa Ponzio
Also a native of Newhaven, Miria’s abilities were focused more on the arts rather than the sciences. She would have never predicted ending up with a family with someone so opposite to her, but at a young age opposites attracted and thus begun their little slice of happiness even though it was short lived. Soon after her youngest son was born Miria was diagnosed with Lupus, making it difficult for her to find work again. Still, she finds time to do what she loves and take care of expenses with what she loves to create.
Treant Naysmith || Brother || fc: Freddie Highmore
The youngest of the tribe at twenty years old, Treant is on a promising trajectory with his school work now at Newhaven Community College and working towards his scholarship to the University. Treant takes after his father’s curious nature and wants to follow in his footsteps to work in engineering, understanding that the hand life dealt him may mean he has to take some awkward stepping stones to get there. Incredibly bright and kind natured, Treant is the perceptive one of the family, usually being observant enough to put pieces together about people around him that they’d otherwise assume were secrets...
3 notes
·
View notes
Photo
→ ABILITY: Enhanced Accuracy and Agility
#→ extras.#→ aesthetic.#→ prompt 002.#talkvig#//some aesthetic stuff#bc i can't seem to get off of photoshop
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Machine’s Heart
(( AN: Heey everyone! It’s you’re favorite trash child with another fun angsty oneshot at the request of bluebird295!! Pairings will be listed right before the fic!)) ((Warnings for a broken heart))((Don’t like, don’t read!))
Blue Bolt x Nightingale
There must have been something wrong with their mental processor, because this could not be happening. It couldn’t be. It had to register as an impossibility because there was no way that they were going to lose Nightingale. Not like this.
The pale healer looked away, and Blue Bolt wanted to scream, or at the very least, they wanted to plead and beg and ask her not to leave. “You’re lying,” came the distorted voice, and they tried to put as much emotion as they could into those two words. “You’re lying, I can tell.”
“It’s not a lie, Blue,” was the healer’s reply, and Blue Bolt felt as if their processor had just stopped working. “I want to stop this. It’s not going to work out.” Her words were ice cold, and Blue was helpless to do anything but watch as her Nightingale started to walk away.
“Why?” they called out, their feet not moving despite how much Blue wanted them to. “Please, Nightingale, tell me why.”
The only reply that they received was silence, but at least Nightingale had stilled at the edge of the rooftop. She hadn’t jumped yet. Blue still had time to convince her.
“Nightingale, please, I love you,” they said, a last cry of hope.
Hope that was shattered as the healer gave a sharp laugh, the porcelain mask on her face cruel and unforgiving under the moonlight. Blue Bolt took a step forward, but was halted with Nightingale’s next words.
“You don’t love me Blue,” she said. “You can’t.”
A sad grin spread across Nightingale’s face as she turned away. “Robots don’t have hearts.”
Blue Bolt could only watch as the white angel jumped across the roof, their arm lowering with a mechanical hiss.
“Yes we do,” the machine whispered. “You were mine.”
9 notes
·
View notes
Photo
“ You could be the King but watch the Queen conquer ”
Aesthic for the female Vigilantes of Newhaven @lyra-rey @hxnnxhyu @amelia-reid @natvalero
14 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Villain Name:
↳ Scythe
Face Claim:
↳ Adria Arjona
Age:
↳ 510 (looks 25)
Species:
↳ Demigod
Powers & Abilities / Specialities:
↳ Life-Force Manipulation (specifically regenerative healing, age manipulation, resurrection, minor healing and life-force absorption)
What was once a latent power, her ability of life-force manipulation was surfaced after almost century of torture. Most of it is completely unconscious such as her regenerative healing and age manipulation, but over the years she figured out how to use many of its other uses. She can absorb people’s life-force with her touch, though she cannot take all of it (thus killing them). The best she can do is suck their life force until they go unconscious then kill them that way. Taking someone’s life force also gives her a burst of energy. She is unable to create life force, meaning that in order to resurrect someone, she must use her own life force, or there must be just enough latent life force for her to amplify. She can heal through a similar way that she brings someone back to life, though she hasn’t truly tempted the limits of this power and usually only uses it if she happens to hurt an innocent in the crossfire.
Backstory: (Trigger Warning for mentions of sexual assault and torture)
↳ She was born Yamanik, in a different time as the reincarnation of the fabled Hero Twins. Her brother never did believe the legends, but she did. She yearned to wear the important title, to be someone important in their world. When news spread of their lineage, she jumped at the opportunity, even as her brother, Kasakir, wished to remain at their dying farm. Their village treated them as gods and as news of them spread, she prepared herself for the K'iche' leaders, convincing herself that she and her brother would be able to take them down if they so wanted to. As it turned out, the Spanish conquistadors did that for her. In the fight that broke out, she lost sight of her brother and just as she was going to call out his name, her vision went black.
The conquistadors did not know of the Hero Twins; they didn't care that she was a reincarnated god. They saw her as a woman first and used her as such. She became one of the many to be treated as "free labor" and no matter what she did to escape, they always managed to catch her in the end. It was never the labor she feared, but the men who believed owned her. They were the ones to stare longer than they ought to or pulled her out of her sleep in the middle of the night.
By the time they realized she was not aging, she yearned for death. She was given to holy men who wanted to purge the devil out of her. When fire did not kill her (despite her screams), they tried water. When water wouldn't work, they tried rocks. So many different ways for her to die and not one of them worked. As the time in between their attempts to kill her became longer, she found herself meditating. She mulled over the stories of the Hero Twins, reminding herself that she was them, she was more powerful than the humans who continued to try to manipulate her. Even as they starved her and used her body, she held more power than they could have ever imagined. In the dark cell, she discovered her true power. She bided her time and when the priest went to her with another attempt to purge the devil out of her, she killed him without batting an eye. And then she brought him back to life. Her words to him were "I want you to feel death as many times as I have."
She didn't know what to do with herself after escaping her cell. She thought about her brother, who must still be alive somewhere in the world, but without a way to track him down, he left her mind instantaneously. Instead, she just walked. She didn't know where she was going, but she vowed to never become someone's slave ever again.
In her aimless wandering, she saw many horrible things, countries brought to ruin, wars crushing innocent people. She hated this world, hated every man who believed it was their right to kill another. It wasn't their right; it was hers. She killed for sport, whenever there was a man who stared at women the wrong way or said something she didn't like. She seduced them, lured them in, stabbed them as many times as she could, and brought them back to life to see what she had done. Sometimes she killed them again, other times she let them live in fear of her return. Any man who killed another was her victim and she had so many to choose from. Never mind that they changed their ways or started a family to atone for their crimes. The world was unforgiving and she was only playing by its rules.
She was already at Newhaven when she saw her brother for the first time in centuries. He wore a silly outfit with a silly name and dubbed himself a hero. One look at him and she could see that life had been much kinder to him than it had been to her and she loathed him for it. The world always did treat men better and she thought it good to remind them that she wouldn't accept being pushed aside any longer. She wore her own ridiculous outfit and proved to all of them that she was stronger, that she was better, and she would kill anyone who tried to tell her otherwise.
Moral Alignment:
↳ Lawful Evil
Criminal MO:
↳ She usually kills or attacks murderers or those who have shown serious violence against others. She predominantly goes after men, though she has been known to kill women who are particularly heinous. She has maintained her normal MO of luring in whoever she intends to kill, taking their life force, murdering them, then traumatizing them by bringing them back to life. Most of the time, she will kill them again after, but occasionally, she will flip a coin to decide if they will stay permanently dead or not.
Extra Info:
↳ In case it wasn’t obvious, she is the twin sister to the guild member, Daybreak.
↳ She never bothers to give herself a new name as the woman she once was has definitely died. She currently goes by the name Ava, but will most likely change it whenever she forgets what she is supposed to be called or grows bored of it.
↳ She thinks of the vigilantes as even more ridiculous versions of the guild, but incredibly more dangerous. She keeps her eyes on the ones with questionable morals *cough* Red River and Puck *cough* and might even have them on her long list of potential victims.
↳ Her symbol is that of a scythe, both to represent her small beginnings as a farmer and the image of death she now takes on.
↳ She lives by a woman’s shelter and is often seen volunteering there. A great deal of her victims are the abusers of the women at the shelter.
↳ As for money, she’ll usually take whatever she wants. She has gathered several priceless artifacts over the years that she sells whenever she doesn’t feel like taking something.
↳ She has a strange appreciation for Anima and is a fan of her work.
↳ Fun fact: her given name Yamanik means emerald in the K’iche’ language.
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
~Z: I picked a song for each vigilante! This is just an OOC thing I wanted to do, so don't feel pressured to check it out or anything I just couldn't get the idea out of my head~ Come talk to me about how well it fits your character, I'd love to chat about it with you and make updates! These are all some form of dubstep/DNB/etc, so check your volume just in case!
ANIMA
The Great Divide - Velvetine (Seven Lions Remix)
BANDIT
Saint - Verite (tofu Remix)
BLUE BOLT
Written Emotions - MitiS
CASPIAN
Steal Your Heart - BRKLYN
DOWNFALL
Lullabies - Yuna (Adventure Club Remix)
DREAD
Dark Star - Jaymes Young
NIGHTINGALE
Hands - Koda
PITCH
In the Dark - Rival (feat. Matt Landry)
RED RIVER
Crossfire - Stephen
SHUTDOWN
Agony - AZEDIA
WATCHER
Limitless - Adventure Club
#ooc#music#talkvig#let me know what you think#of yours and other peoples#if you want#also i just made this a whole new post
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
To Those Who Listen
Tonight Newhaven weeps. Though, you can not hear it over the jubilant cries of your mayor and his misinformed lackeys. Your outright neglect for the city you so cherish has allowed a murderous rot to root himself into the very foundation of the capital. How long would it have taken you to discover his treacherous ways if he refused to dangle it in front of your gapping faces covered in bells and whistles in an attempt to hide its true meaning? I suppose for those who are not affected by this bill the unmistakable denial of human rights is not a daunting threat, though I would hate to remind you that this is merely the mayor's first step. Who would stop him from enacting unjust laws on every citizen in Newhaven? Ah, yes, the ones who were sentenced to prison for trying to bring light to even the darkest hours.
But please, do not mistake my passion for being on the side of the vigilantes, it happens to be quite opposite of that. I am one of those whom you run from when the night grows dark. I just fear the repercussions of angering the nighttime heroes since I am pleasantly content with the number of criminals we have currently, I don't do very well with making new friends. Thus it would be smart of you to remember that the cops aren't always quick or competent enough to save you from a rather terrifying situation, and who would be left to become your hero when the one that's harming you are those who you regarded as idols a mere day before. The only weapon that works against an ability is an ability itself.
To those who had listened from the very beginning and winced at the whines that Newhaven sputtered out, I sincerely apologize. For those who have been frightened and are now ready to hear the cries of a city under siege, you are too late.
#~Persona: Your secrets safe with me~#He would have sent this letter to Buzznews and any other large news sources#talkvig
1 note
·
View note
Photo
((Max Harrison at the Hotel Event.))
4 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
the-sky-was-maroon
and they said speak now!
hasntaksh
Hassan
ultimate-omnitrix-101
Untitled
yesviking
Asian Greatness
noot-tonight
Ice Princess Born in Fire