May you be Cursed with Interesting Times

[Wyrn]

May you be Cursed with Interesting Times

RULES
This is a literate RPG that means there are definite rules that must be followed.
- All posts must be done in paragraph form.
- A paragraph is three sentences or more.
- Power Play and Godmodding is not allowed.
- Fantasy characters will not be permitted without a firm background.
- Be as realistic as possible.
- All rules can be changed or added at anytime and must be followed.

Setting
This is to be a modern RPG set in the streets of large city called Mordacity. Like every big city it is filled people of many different background and culture forced to live together and make something of themselves. There is class and racial struggle, apathy, and crime. All in all the world seems set against those born with nothing and are destined to end up with nothing. This RPG is about Change. How a person is changed by ambition, opportunity, and other people. This RPG is about Survival. How does one survive in a world, how does one keep moving forward, how does one choose their way.

Characters
This form must be filled to join this RPG.

Username:
Character Name:
Age:
Race:
Occupation:
Physical Description:
Background:
Personality:
Skills:
Other points of intrest:
Picture: (If Avaliable)

Wyrn

Username: Wyrn
Character Name: Wen Zhou
Age: 21
Race: Asian/White
Occupation: Full time College Student with a part time job at a local Cafe
Physical Description: He stands about 5'4" and hates how everyone one else seems to be taller then him. He has very pale skin and a body that looks like he can be blown away by the wind though he keeps himself fit. He has black hair and eyes that screams out his Asian heritage. He wears very loose clothes that he gets at a local good will store.
Background: His father was a Chinese immigrant with great ambitions that were never fulfilled at his death. His mother was from a wealthy upper class family that made the mistake of falling in love with a man her parents disapproved of. She was disowned and lived with her husband and child in the lower part of the city. At her husband's death both of them were taken back in. Wen was 10 at the time and was instantly thrusted into society life being taught how to be a proper gentleman.
Personality: Wen does not know what he wants or who he is. He is confused by what everyone around him wants of him. He can be stubborn at times but mostly he had a burning desire to learn. He hates being left in the dark and is proud of his dead father even if his relatives try to convince him to forget about him.
Skills: He is highly skilled in painting though thinks of it only as a hobby and outlet for his feelings.

 

[Azrael the Mad]

Username: MadAzrael
Character Name: Victor Alphonse dela Croix
Age: 25, although he looks much younger.
Race: European. French, to be precise.
Occupation: Publicly, he is head librarian at the City Library, secretly an assassin for hire.
Physical Description: Rather tall at 6' even, Victor has a rather lithe and lean, yet muscular build that belies his actual strength. His is a face that tells of his European heritage, oozes charm and is, of course, very handsome and regal, yet is also unbearably cold due to the death he is forced to surround himself with. His eyes are as dark as night, and they seem to swallow the light surrounding them while also delving deep into the inner being of whoever he chooses to look at. His hair is cropped just above his shoulders and is a shimmering silvery color.
Background: Descended from the lineage of a prestigious family who had fallen on hard times, Victor parted with that lifestyle at a very early age, choosing instead to surround himself with pimps and whores and ne'er-do-wells, to the grave misfortune of his family, who still clung desperately to the old, noble ways. After leaving France and his family behind forever at the age of 15, Victor made his way to the city, where he was spotted by the kingpin of a large-scale criminal organization. Knowing full well the potential of this man who, by then, had nothing else to lose, Victor was trained by the syndicate, who cultivated his entire body into a lethal weapon. Victor became the organization's assassin at the tender age of 18, and killing soon became second nature to him. As the don who took him in lay dying, he granted Victor his freedom, but by then, killing was all Victor knew, so he became an assassin for hire, to at least put his talents as a weapon to some use.
Personality: Due to the way he was brought up, Victor does not know what love is. His is a cold, aloof, almost chilly attitude that is capable of strange bits of warmth every now and again because of his mother, who was the only person who ever actually showed the disreputable man kindness and warmth. Now working for himself as an assassin for hire, Victor is desperate to find something else he can excel at, so as to finally put an end to his killing. Obedient to a fault, Victor was groomed to follow orders, so his attitude is a bit robotic and subservient at times. He has a great passion for literature and music, both of which he studies voraciously.
Skills: Aside from his obvious skills with guns and knives, Victor has a beautiful singing voice and a talented writer, but he chooses not to display these talents openly too often, but is prone to singing to himself in private and storing away hoardes of his completed plays, poems and novels.
Picture:  

[Wyrn]

"Hey, Wren! Your Mom's on the phone. Says its important and your cell's off."

Wen looking up from the table he was cleaning and sighing pocketed the couple dollars the customers had left behind as he walked over to his employer with a weak smile. They both knew why his cell was off. His mother was lonely and used him as a way to give her life meaning. That meant she was constantly calling him to 'check up on her little baby'. After the first week of work he had just started to leave his cell off when he was here.

The first time he had done it she had been completely livid when he returned home. Crying that he could miss really important calls without his cell phone on. The fact that the only people that ever called him where his family and his boss did not phase her. Friends were not a thing he came easily too. As a child he always had lot of friends but with a higher lot came rules and regulations. That included who he was able to be friends with. The crowd that his grandfather kept trying to push him into seemed more likely to push him back out then accept him. He was smart, polite, and could care less about what his brainless peers thought what was important in life.

His family had not approved of him getting a job. They did not understand his need to contribute something to his family. College was enough for them. If anything they seemed to expect nothing good out of him. They wanted him to be another trinket on the family tree to show his 'good breeding'. It was a shame that he took after his father so much. But his veins still held their blood in it and thus he was to be coddled and pampered like the rest of his cousins. They could care less about his spotless record or his high grades. The only thing they wanted to know was when he would finally join the family more regulary in social outings and that he should look into dating. After all the line had to continue.

When he had taken a job they though it was just a phase and he would quit in a matter of days. After a month they figured he was just eccentric. Then he started wearing clothes from the local goodwill. They had then commented on his 'peculiar' fashion sense though most of the time they had no room to complain. It was true he got his clothes cheaply at a store with the money he earned from his work. But he knew well enough how to enhance his appearance. They had drummed good fashion sense into him since he was 10 and he lived up to their expectations if not the way they wanted. He never mentioned the change happened when one of his beloved cousins told him that expensive clothes was a waste on him because he could never change what he was. In a way he just wanted to prove that he did not want to change who he was.

He also oddly enough found comfort in supplying his needs his own way. Had he wanted he could have snapped his fingers and money would have been handed eagerly to him to go off on a shopping spree. But he did not want that. He did not really know what he wanted only that he wanted something different. His cousins called him lowbrow. After all his childhood was spent in the lower part of town where he learned to conserve money and how to stand up for himself. He also liked simpler things. Things like sitting on a bench in the park just watching people walk by or staying out in the garden at night to stargaze. The others did not understand. They could not see beauty in things that did not come with a price tag.

"Hi Mom, I heard it was an emergency."

"Wen? Thank god I got you. You will never believe what happened; your grandfather is sending me on vacation next week to Hawaii. I think he is finally really starting to warm up to me again."

Wen knew the most likely reason was that his grandfather wanted her out of his hair for a while. It never seemed the two of them could be in a room without yelling at each other. It broke his grandmother's heart to no end seeing the two of them like that. But she would never stop the fights... that was his unfortunate job.

"Mom, could you have told me this later? I am at work."

"Don't get that way with me young man. I work so hard so you could have everything that..."

Wen sighed as he forced himself to listen to his mother yammering on. It was not that he did not like his mother, but that he felt she depended too much on him. Even after his grandparents had taken her back in after disowning her, they had never really forgiven each other. Mother was the first to forgive being disowned but she seemed to always be waiting on an appology which will never come from her grandfather. Wen was forced to be the intermediary between the two groups trying to keep everything together.

Plus he knew his mother would never be able to live on her own without her father's money. She had enough of slumming it when living with father. He had always felt bad for father having to deal with such a demanding wife. But his father did not mind. His father loved nothing more then to give his mother what ever she wanted. One thing mother always remembered fondly of her belated husband. With him dead, she had found no reason not to go back to her parents. After all his father was the only thing they had disproved of. Him on the other hand... wanted nothing more then for his father to still be with him. He loved his father. He refused to forget him like the rest of his family. But even while he was accepted by his grandparents his mother was still on dangerous grounds.

That was why he stayed at the house instead of move to the dorms at college. He even had great scholarship opportunities at other universities all wanting him for his outstanding grades in humanities, English, and philosophy. At the moment he was taking in classes the same areas now with no real clue of what he wanted to do.

"I'll talk to you later Mom, the boss needs me."

He hung up the phone hearing the screech at the other end and knew he was going to get a dressing down when he got home that day for not only interrupting her in the middle of there 'conversation' but for hanging up on her. Walking out of the back room he looked as his boss for a moment.

"Everything ok Wren?"

"Don't let her bully you into giving me the phone anymore. Make up some work bull s**t about a policy that does not allow phone calls."

"I tried that last time, remember?"

Wen winced knowing exactly what had happened. He had heard both sides of that argument for days afterwards. Greg was a simple man that happened to be very blunt. Something that did not go over well with a female that ALWAYS got her way.

"Look Wren, why don't you just talk to her about?."

"She won't listen, Greg. She never does."

"Get back to work, Wren. We'll work on your problems another day."

He felt the others hand on his shoulder giving him an encouraging squeeze before heading back to his office. He could not help but smile at him. Even with that bloody stupid nickname he kept calling him. Wren. Exactly how hard was it to say Wen. Zhou he could understand someone having trouble with but Wen?

Looking back around the cafe to notice the fairly slow business he quickly made his way back to the table he had been working on before being interrupted. Why could he not just have a simple life with no complications? Was that really too hard to ask for? No household problems. No expectations that did not exsist. And most of all he wanted a normal family again.