Most of the below are characters which star in an online roleplay; others are purely from my imagination that will no doubt fit into furture stories.

Rocky Maltio
   Rocky walks in, fairly slow unhurried walk, with his gaze drifting over the area, inspecting through his Spanish deep blue eyes, his gaze showing an obvious shade of sorrow, haunting over his eyes. His hair often caught by the wind, drifting exasperatingly over his eyes, adding a more daunting look to him, the colour to his hair being a deep shade of red, almost folding onto a brown. Around his neck hangs several necklaces, the more profound being the necklace of winds, drooping down over his shirt, between the folds of his jacket, along with the a locket, golden in the shape of a boot usually always worn over his shirt, Then a necklace usually worn underneath the shirt, but the chain is visible, then the initial main piece of necklace if shown it looks to be a dragon's scale, crystal clear like a prism that breaks up the light that hits it into dazzling rainbows. On its surface, is a single rune surrounded with many others, almost too tiny to make out. His shirt peeks through most often to none black, a perfect fit, not overly tight, but not loose and baggy, white lines of cotton detailing the initial sewing of the shirt, his Jacket drawn over his shirt covering most of his shirt to the eye. The shoulders more harder then previously seen, tougher but fabric still over the section, visually more of a blind effect three parts each atop the other, before continuing with the closer tighter material. More of a blue colour then a black, but the sheer darkness of it, showing it as black with a toning of blue, the collars following the normal path of a collar yet the corners turned up curving only slightly, the cuffs of the arm, stopping neatly just over his wrists, feeding a way through for his hands, fairly rough hands not to smooth, holding a copper coloured ring over a finger, the other piece of jewellery on the left hand on his wedding finger a ring formed from primroses, combining to give the shape for the ring, each linking from one to another to form the wedding band. ….. The shirt seen in between the two ends of his jacket either tucked in or let free to hang over his trousers. The belt separating the two halves, holding daggers sheath, two on either side, his trousers taking on the shade of a dark red, seen to be more of a black with the tinting of the red only sometimes showing through with artificial lights directed over the material, the bottom cuffs of his trousers, folding onto over his shoe’s, taking the form of black, rather strong looking, yet worn heavily . . .

   His gaze a constant flicker of pale blue….yet…. light, oh so light it could easily be missed within the blink of one’s eye, yet its always there. . . Usually. His body reaching heights, reaching around six foot. Though his body held and wrapped within the wall of soft darkness. Hair casing over his forehead fairly long fringe, a recent colour change in hair it’s ‘turning’. Brought to a faint style of blue pulling through the red strict shade the strands held before; perhaps a washing? His eyes seemingly replacing the colour his hair lost, red. The pupils a white-red easily becoming accustomed to their flicker during colour change. His eyes for most of the part seem dead; perhaps wintriness emerged over? The next imperative facial feature would be the lips. . . The ‘opening’ to his inner being, usually held in a strict sense of being untailored, which perhaps made it formal. . . held extremely tight. The collars of his clothing, the shirt covered half of his neck, a stiff tense collar…folded down onto the actual shirt a dark black, in all its glory the most recognized essence of black was its smoothness, his shirt was truly smooth; a bare ripple with any of his movements. The sleeves were long, reaching down to his wrists, the cuffs the usual pattern folded back onto itself, held a lighter form of black. . . The colour was grey. . . Yet Black is darker then grey. His skin pale. . . as though it had never lived; yet it hadn’t, his fingers coiled. . . held against his sides. The trousers he wore we’re indeed black, following the previous suite, yet they were different. . . They were reddening black. . . Deep, the trousers are not heavy, yet not light, not big nor baggy, yet not clingy and tight; smoothly fitting to his figure allowing enough room for suave movement. The trousers folded over the boots he wore, they indeed were heavy yet not worn, and they looked brand new, as if he took great pride in their visuals. The trim to the boot was red, the stitching, the lace all the same, if the underside was ever to be seen, the grip ridges they were given would be seen as red, yet somehow seemed alive within a dead manor, they would almost appear blood like.

Corran Rocky Maltio
   CorranRocky walks in rather proudly formation. Wearing mainly black attire, as if in mourning of a loosed one, or vampire or neither…perhaps he just likes the illusions that come with darkness. His eyes darker then usual the once warm blue solidifying to more that of ‘ice cold.’ A previous youthful; ‘cute’ appearance broadened to a more intense show of a reflection of his ‘inner’ self. His blonde hair now darker deep to that of the colour black...spiked roughly without any care, rough and urban just idle slapped up with gel. Infiltrating his hair are a few streaks of purple. Wearing as previously stated black, all black near enough, a black cotton shirt thrown over a black cotton tank top, his arms not left bare…covered by this shirt. The collars of his shirt stiff and rigid, but. A silver necklace coming from both sides of the collar long and fairly drooping holding a locket, swinging briskly with the wind as he walks. Black tight pants clinging to his legs, not making a sound, not even a rustling sound as he walks through, creased and crinkled falling down over his boots, made from tough material protecting his feet from unsightly disasters. Thrown over from around his shoulders a bag held low to the rear, black in colour, with a yellow trim. Holstering several weapons in various place some seen some not, those seen obviously at brief times are the shoulder holsters inside underneath his shirt, holstering two pistols, followed by an ankle holster strapped over his pants, holstering a smaller sized pistol. A small thin sized scabbard also strapped to him having holes in his shirt not big open holes, just big enough for straps to go around underneath his shirt from prying eyes. The straps black the bow Silver well decorated holding design styles of not once culture but many, the main one portrait being Spanish. Held inside the scabbard only the hilt seen when unsheathed. The hilt itself very stylised twisting and turn into the grip, meet by the cross bar, the bar running sideways along having a green gem, emerald perhaps? Not really able to judge the stone of it unless they had a keen eye for such gems. The gem inlodged into the metal, curving leaves vine type figures holding it. Then meet the scabbard. When exposed brought out into the open its seen to be a very bright silver no rust blade, many scratches giving the impression its been used countless times in many battles, wars. That all his weapons he holds perhaps? Maybe not there the ones visually seen obviously, others many hidden in different locations to prying eyes. His face one of that of sure kindness if it could be unmasked from the darker ominous glow through the seeming rough hard, and unsympathetic gaze…were these really his qualities? The harshness portrayed in his face a real representation of him?

Tyson LeeHawk

   Jessie walks into the room with. Long brown hair, which is flowing over onto her shoulders, closer inspection would bring soft flecks of purple into sight, bouncing into the light. Her face curved and shaped to an acute ‘childish’ despite her actual age; the reflection unto her personality was bona fide. Her hair stopped short at her back, rippling over the backpack, stylish design a certain ‘tomboy’ appeal; branded ‘Nike’. The straps of the backpack ran round over her shoulders onto her chest, the straps constricted the shirt little, fabric was a soft dark black, yet formed no ‘scary’ presence. The cuffs of the shirt hung over her hands yet not concealing the light from bouncing of the ‘synthetic’ ring, looking to be that of a wedding ring. The shirt stopped barely at the forming of the trousers matching the previous color hanging slack, dropping over a pair of white trainers. Though she doesn’t hold a card which states her children’s names history and past including their friends she apparently has many


    Through the cavernous russet eyes the soul within stares out into the nexus she’s found herself in, watching out of the field of vision the pupils allow. Curling strands of eyelashes coated with shady thick mascara adding a characteristic inquisitive tint to the manifestation partially cover the lower and upper view. Her eyebrows emaciated relaxed causing no wrinkles to emerge over the shiny flesh of her forehead; bronzed with a light golden shade. The flesh of her face enhanced by the applying of makeup, adding a soft hue to her cheeks. A dominant aspect of her face is her lips; intense brought from the coating layer of pink lipstick, complementing her facial features. The lower of the lip alluring the light often adding an soft reflection. Shrouding her face often blurring before her are the lengthy copious strands of dark tresses. Bare shoulders appealing to the daylight obviously stated by leaving a darker golden personification. Clothing only coming into visual around the lower chest, perfectly covering the ample sized breasts. The purple fabric allowing easy path for wrinkles the lower it stretch. The hem of the clothing stop inches from the waistband of her jeans, allowing a brief section of flesh to be in visual when moving. The jeans embrace close over her hips a tough dark navy blue shade covering the legs completely down to the ankle from their they spread out over the black leather ankle boots.