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Post by Brownie on Jul 28, 2017 11:36:26 GMT -5
Tada She was a thief. And a good one too. There's nothing she can't get into, nothing she can't steal. He was an assassin. And a good one too. There's no target he's missed, no one he can't take out. He's not quiet. She's not a killer. They are both good at what they do, and they've met on several occasions when their paths crossed, but never when they could help it. They hated each other, hated what they did, what they stood for, and don't even start about their music tastes. Then they both have the same hit. Same day, same time. She's securing the payload, he's wiping the blood from his blade. Then all hell breaks loose. Alarms blare, gunshots are heard from outside. He sees the armored cars screech up to the side of the pavement, she sees her bolthole close in her face. They both hear the megaphone: "Two birds with one stone, we did well today." And they both know what that means. The two are forced to join up in order to escape the trap they both fell into. Chaos ensues. Either this escape takes a long time and has complications (such as a personal battle with the agents sent to capture them) or it's a continued thing where they both need to rely on one another to lie low. Probably she takes a bullet and it's in her turf so she forces him to help her get to the safehouse. They'll have to work together angrily for a good long while. Usually this ends up in a romance, but I wouldn't let that happen probably. Maybe a partnership or a truce. The Thief: The Killer -- Edward Rodger Cormack. 34. Male.Cormack is no sneak thief, but a killer cold and blooded. He has an average build, well muscled due to the strain of his job. He knows to be lax is to be dead, especially on some of his higher priority targets. His hair is blonde and kept to a clean cut, military and out of the way. His eyes are a light brown. He actually has faint patches of freckles on his arms and to the corners of his eyes, but are only really visible in the cold or when he is angry. A tan in the summer usually also keeps them at bay and luckily his freckles faded as he aged. His outfit depends on the job, and over the years he became very good at blending in. But he can always be found with a ring hung from a bit of twine as a necklace.
Cormack knows that his job is a friendless one and has long since accepted that he can't have a foot in both the normal world as a waiter and the world in which he kills people in the night. He has a sense of humor and won't pause to use it in the most inappropriate situations or anything life-or-death. However working on his own has made him self-reliant, stubborn, and he hates needing help on a task. He takes pride in his ability to blend in to crowds and read people through gestures, posture, or words. He actually loves baking as a hobby and can cook anything with a low budget.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 28, 2017 13:08:20 GMT -5
I'll hopefully get my character up by sometime tonight. ^^ after that, plotting will be easier The Thief -- Erica Voss - 29 - Female {forever wip because i'm terrible at forms} physical; natural auburn hair dyed magenta & cut to her shoulder-blades in thick, wavy layers. dark brown eyes covered by contacts and occasionally sunglasses (most notably in the summer months, of course). has fair skin, a beauty mark on the left side of her chin, and a heart-shaped face covered with make-up (aka wicked wings) tho she changes it up often as part of her "undetectable thief" image. coupled with this is a tendency to wear wigs - better safe than sorry by looking like a different person all the time. she possesses a curvy, more pear-shaped, figure and stands at an even height of 5'5".
personality; virtues--high-spirited, optimistic, passionate, & self-reliant. vices--irresponsible, shallow, judgmental, bullheaded. will hopefully word these into proper sentences soon,,
history; wip
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Post by Brownie on Jul 28, 2017 22:31:59 GMT -5
yeah forms are horrible. I have a base up but meh the wording is just getting worse and worse
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Post by Deleted on Jul 29, 2017 8:09:29 GMT -5
well the basics are all we really need for now? we can always update the forms as need be, since most of the character comes through in writing.
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Post by Brownie on Jul 29, 2017 9:48:32 GMT -5
[ busy today, I may or may not get a starter up between showering and breakfast because that's the only block of time I have today. rip. ]
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Post by Deleted on Jul 29, 2017 10:15:28 GMT -5
It's all good. I'll be at work most of the day. ^^;
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Post by Brownie on Jul 30, 2017 23:19:58 GMT -5
Cormack - - - He liked this house, he decided as he walked down the hall. Cormack had a sheaf of papers in his arms, a hat concealed his buzzed hair. He busied along his way, a messenger that knew where he was going and when he was supposed to be there, but also one that had very obviously never been in the hallways of someplace so obviously, opulently, dripping wealth. Of course, this was all a facade. Cormack had often wandered rich halls --sometimes even without disguise. However he did have to appreciate the old Victorian hints the architect wove into the new mansion. A raised arch here, a wooden accent there. Peaked ceilings in places that were hard to notice, yet tastefully gave the room an airy, open feel. Whoever built this place had been very good at his job.
It probably had cost an arm and a leg too. That was where Cormack stepped in.
He looked around a bit more, shuffling the papers so different ones were on top. For a place of this size, the home was oddly empty. Usually people still bustled around, the inner workings of any fortress: cooks, maids, guests. This normally would have raised all the alarms in his head, but while it did put him on edge, he knew today there was a logical reason for a holiday: the county fair. A large event for a small community, it wasn't odd that most the housekeepers --and guests-- would be absent from the home. A perfect time for a murder.
Cormack took in the scene. He knew where he was going; he'd studied the map for hours and knew exactly where to pause, where to stop and fix his shoe to avoid the bad camera angle in the stairwell. It was a plan. And plans were something Cormack knew well. He whistled a tune, some off-key melody from a trending artist.
A delivery man, that's all he was. Except today he was delivering death.
- - -
Short but no clue how this should start lol
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Post by Deleted on Aug 1, 2017 9:52:52 GMT -5
awright I'm mostly free for the next three days so I'ma try to get my reply up sometime today. >:3c I should let you know I'll be going on a trip all of a next week starting Sunday so I won't be around till I return next Saturday,,
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Post by Brownie on Aug 2, 2017 12:12:24 GMT -5
[ totally fine ^^ ]
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Post by Deleted on Aug 2, 2017 19:33:59 GMT -5
i'm almost done, but before i do did you want them to run into each other sooner, or later? :0 tho i know they won't be joining up until they have to haha. because i mean i could have her stumble upon him or vise versa and she's caught off guard. or if you'd rather drag it out a little that's fine too.
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Post by Brownie on Aug 2, 2017 21:43:16 GMT -5
[ seriously that could be amazing. Just like, she's sneaking around and sees right through him because she's trained to (and knows who he is, obvs) and he just doodles on oblivious xD either they both go on or she could follow or whatever fits up to u ]
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Post by Deleted on Aug 3, 2017 12:32:10 GMT -5
{i don't like this post v much but i tried abskfasdafk)
Erica liked to think of herself as intelligent. Crafty like a fox, even. She always went in with a plan, always thought every little thing through. A mission (that word made the whole thing sound so very important) like this, she was sure, would prove no difficult than any other. Not without the tiny thrill that came from being somewhere she shouldn’t, but nothing she couldn’t handle. She was too careful, she thought. Too smart, she was sure! What she didn’t know, couldn’t know really, was that she wasn’t the only one on a dangerous task inside the old Victorian-style home.
The halls were silent as she crept through them the way a cat creeps after a mouse. Only her mouse happened to be something valuable and well…not alive. She was decked out with a blonde-bobbed wig, work-attire, and subtly styled makeup – a disguise, of course. Erica owned too many wigs to count and it was often underestimated how much cosmetics could really alter your face. She made sure to disguise herself on every mission she undertook, just in case she were somehow caught. If she were stumbled upon, either at this very moment or if she happened to wind up on the camera feed, she would most likely be mistaken as one of the maids on duty (or a maid out for her master’s cash). Odd for the holiday, but it was one way to shift blame on someone else. Not that anybody knew her real identity, anyway.
Erica was doubtful she’d be in any trouble any time soon, disguise or no. She’d been careful to scope out the house days before deciding to do this. First the outside, studying the cameras and how often and when people came in and out of the house. The company was conveniently no problem today, with the festival going on. All she needed to do now was avoid the cameras that were so carefully littered throughout the house. This hall would lead out into a stairwell, she recalled as she rounded the corner and—
Crap!
Heart flying up to her throat, Erica leapt back behind the corner as quickly as she had come around it. Her hand flew up to her chest and her pounding heart and she struggled to relax her breathing. She wasn’t the only one with something to do in this house, it seemed. Carefully, after composing herself, she peeked back around the corner, analyzing the man from behind. Not a servant, no way…and definitely not the owner of the house. He wore the garb of a delivery person and whistled nonchalantly as he walked. Damn, she needed to go that way but with him there…maybe it would be best to wait it out. …Wait, did people normally make deliveries on a holiday? She couldn’t really answer that question for sure but the suspicions made her watch the man a little more closely, hoping for a glimpse of his face. It was hard to be sure, but…that wasn’t who she was starting to think it was, was it?
Oh, God. Ew. I hope he didn’t see me. Erica thought as she ducked her currently blonde head out of sight. Wait, what was she worried about? Even if it was who she thought it was, or just a simply delivery person, she looked like a maid right now. She had nothing to fear – unless he recognized her voice, anyway, but she wouldn't talk to him unless necessary.
Steeling her courage, Erica left her hiding spot and swept after the man, walking with a purpose that could just as easily be mistaken for a servant on the job rather than a young woman preparing for theft.
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