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Post by Deleted on Jun 7, 2017 0:04:25 GMT -5
the plot.in a magical borough of the ever sprawling New York City, a member of the magical borough has a life-changing encounter with a normal human being.the characters.Brownie 's character: Isabel HathonIsabel Hathon Despite shooting for a career being an actress, Isabel doesn't quite hit the mark. She stands at 5'4 on a good day and is slightly chubby at 140lbs, giving her curves around her waist and shoulders. She has dark hair, brown, but in the dark usually tends closer to black, however shines brown in strong sunlight. Her hair falls six inches below her shoulders and is wavy at the ends, annoying, since it refuses to curl or straighten for more than an hour at a time. Her skin is a medium-fair and tans well, courtesy of the Italian blood on her father's side. She has light hazel eyes sometimes framed by dark green glasses for her mild nearsightedness, although she often will wear contacts as well. She prefers the warm over cold and tends to wear sweaters and blouses instead of tank tops or tees more for the practicality of keeping warm than the style, although because of her aspirations for Hollywood, she also tends to be very conscious of her outfit and will take time to decide what she'll wear. She hasn't grown out of her high-school love for high tops, and wears them as comfort in a casual setting. Two traits really define Isabel: her curiosity about everything and everyone, and her motivation to try anything new. Growing up on a farm in the central USA, she has an insatiable curiosity for anything new. She loves talking with and meeting new people, having only lived among a small community for most her youth, and loves hearing stories about other peoples' "exciting lives". She attacks new challenges with enthusiasm, and though can be self-conscious and needing reassurance, is quite stubborn once she makes up her mind. She's always wanted to be an actress since she was young, and pursued both acting and writing in college. She has a good memory, and what she lacks in talent she makes up in raw enthusiasm and personality. She loves the thrill of being in front of an audience, loves the feeling that she, a country gal, is making an impact in so many lives. She's a fighter for equality and positivisity, and is mostly an optimist. Coupled with her small-town childhood, she tends to be very trusting of others, sometimes to the point of naivety. In hopes of gaining recognition on stage and furthering her career, she moved to NYC, known for its creativity and a base for artists and actors of all sorts. She hopes to forge connections and hopefully be able to land a spot in a nationwide title. However, when she gets there, she hears talk of the "magic quarter" of the city, and is enthralled with the street magicians there. Of course, this leads to some interesting events. . . @viridian 's character: Cain "Cal" Iversonmale // 23 years old. no higher education. physical
- stands at roughly 6'0", with a lean, hard body and a pretty spindly, leggy frame
- has calloused, scarred hands, and generally looks as if he could use a good meal
- hair is naturally black (he keeps it cut short, longer on top), paired with warm hazel eyes
- absolutely covered in enchanted tattoos--they run up and down his arms, chest, and neck. his most notable one is a watch face on his right wrist that actually tells the time. (the rest can move or glow, depending on the situation. the snake on his left forearm likes to blink at people.)
- he dresses fashionably, but inexpensively, mostly in black. think denim jackets, leather jackets, worn jeans, and beat-up Converse.
personality
- he's a true New Yorker: loud and fun-loving, speaks with his hands in wild gestures, and shrewd. quite passionate about baseball and is very opinionated on a variety of subjects.
- of course, he's also a huge flirt and a bit of a womanizer, but it's all in good fun. he's quite endearing, really. he's a good storyteller, a good listener, and can get along with most anyone.
- he's quite street smart. he knows who he can beat in a fight, who he ought to try and placate, when to run.. he's got a good, sensible head on his shoulders.
- however, he's the paranoid and secretive type--the person who double and triple checks everything and constantly looks over his shoulder.
- he's been forced by his circumstances to be distrustful and fiercely independent towards strangers, but with his friends, his loyalty is undying.
magic- his primary ability is shapeshifting. his most common form is a sleek black and tan Doberman Pinscher.
- he's also quite skilled at crafting illusions, picking pockets, creating duplicates of himself or of other objects.
- tl;dr, his abilities revolve around deception of others. he's working to enhance his magic and train harder, but he's lacking in the funds and has a hard time landing a job anywhere.
faceclaim: payden hayes
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Post by Brownie on Jun 7, 2017 0:06:32 GMT -5
sounds legit lets go speaking of which I'm going to need a name for her hrm
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Post by Brownie on Jun 7, 2017 9:13:23 GMT -5
WIP just posting this so that I can save progress on and off and not lose it also description may be a bit thin I'm probably going to doodle her for a ref later. Isabel Hathon Despite shooting for a career being an actress, Isabel doesn't quite hit the mark. She stands at 5'4 on a good day and is slightly chubby at 140lbs, giving her curves around her waist and shoulders. She has dark hair, brown, but in the dark usually tends closer to black, however shines brown in strong sunlight. Her hair falls six inches below her shoulders and is wavy at the ends, annoying, since it refuses to curl or straighten for more than an hour at a time. Her skin is a medium-fair and tans well, courtesy of the Italian blood on her father's side. She has light hazel eyes sometimes framed by dark green glasses for her mild nearsightedness, although she often will wear contacts as well. She prefers the warm over cold and tends to wear sweaters and blouses instead of tank tops or tees more for the practicality of keeping warm than the style, although because of her aspirations for hollywood, she also tends to be very conscious of her outfit and will take time to decide what she'll wear. She hasn't grown out of her high-school love for high tops, and wears them as comfort in a casual setting. Two traits really define Isabel: her curiosity about everything and everyone, and her motivation to try anything new. Growing up on a farm in the central USA, she has an insatiable curiosity for anything new. She loves talking with and meeting new people, having only lived among a small community for most her youth, and loves hearing stories about other peoples' "exciting lives". She attacks new challenges with enthusiasm, and though can be self-conscious and needing reassurance, is quite stubborn once she makes up her mind. She's always wanted to be an actress since she was young, and pursued both acting and writing in college. She has a good memory, and what she lacks in talent she makes up in raw enthusiasm and personality. She loves the thrill of being in front of an audience, loves the feeling that she, a country gal, is making an impact in so many lives. She's a fighter for equality and positivisity, and is mostly an optimist. Coupled with her small-town childhood, she tends to be very trusting of others, sometimes to the point of naivety. In hopes of gaining recognition on stage and furthering her career, she moved to NYC, known for its creativity and a base for artists and actors of all sorts. She hopes to forge connections and hopefully be able to land a spot in a nationwide title. However, when she gets there, she hears talk of the "magic quarter" of the city, and is enthralled with the street magicians there. Of course, this leads to some interesting events. . .
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Post by Brownie on Jun 7, 2017 11:48:41 GMT -5
okie dokie there she is.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 7, 2017 18:30:12 GMT -5
ahh thanks for posting that! she looks great, I'll get to adding her in a second.
sorry it took me this long to get settled down, but I'm finally able to sit and write undistracted and unbothered. (I feel God awful today though, so basically moving around has been a fantastic struggle) but yeah! prepare yourself for a starter!
edit: finished up Cal's ref. the starter is on its way.
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Post by Brownie on Jun 7, 2017 20:12:16 GMT -5
he's so adorable ahhhhh <33
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Post by Deleted on Jun 7, 2017 20:50:31 GMT -5
cal iverson. time: 8:49 p.m. location: midtown, new york city
Cain could certainly be called a number of things, whether those chosen words be kind or not so much, but 'punctual' would never make either list.
Of course he was running late on what would perhaps be the turning point of his life and career. The annual competition at The Broken Tap--a shady, poorly-lighted, run-down bar that would have been long closed, except for the magical staff maintaining the place--was one that attracted both tourists and members of his sort of "extended family", otherwise known as the others from that string of apartments in Hell's Kitchen. They were a decent-sized group, at least, from what Cain could tell, but there was never really any way to know for sure who was who; they were all so subtle in their magic, if they ever used it. All he could rely on was his intuition, which had only lead him wrong a couple times.
Even though he'd be damned if he admitted to anyone that he'd been sleeping off a wicked hangover all day after a fantastically insane night out on the town, his pride kept him from adding to his awfulness by being late. Well, regardless of what he did to get from his one room apartment to Midtown, he would be late--he could deal with being fashionably so. The evening gridlock was terrible, as always, and Cain was, as usual, too broke to use an Uber (he didn't even have a credit card, and when the thought crossed his mind, he reminded himself to open an account for the hundredth time), so what better way to get across town other than by warming up his magic?
So that's exactly what he did. After locking his apartment door (what was there in there to steal, anyway?), he darted out into the crowded sidewalks as a tall, lanky Doberman. There's no other way to clear a path ahead of you than charging full speed as an intimidating dog, and he could make good time on all fours. Sure, his plan could get Animal Control called--and it had actually happened on a number of occasions before, but as always, he was able to figure out how to save himself--but it did get him to The Broken Tap only a couple minutes after his act was supposed to begin.
The sleek dog ducked into the late night shadows of an alley, hidden from the neon lights of the bar by looming buildings above, and stepped back out into the light a couple moments later as himself again, slightly out of breath from the whole ordeal. He checked the time on his wrist. Oh, only four minutes. That's fine. Cain wiped his forehead dry with his shirtsleeve, fixed the collar of his jacket, then strode through the doors, leaving a crack of warm yellow spilling out onto the sidewalk, then closing up again as the door shut behind him.
The Broken Tap was more crowded than Cain had ever seen it, and he was speaking truthfully when he said so; there was barely any standing room, nevertheless sitting room, anywhere in the bar, and every single chair and bar stool was turned to a makeshift stage towards the back of the room--right now, a portly gentleman clumsily managed a one-man-band, and he sat at a small piano while a trumpet, tuba, and trombone floated in midair around him, playing a jaunty tune. It was dully lit and warm, filled with both nervous energy from the few performers in the crowd and excitement from all the rest. There were many faces he didn't recognize from back in the Kitchen. Tourists, he remarked silently. Word must've leaked out to everyone else they shared New York City with that this was a hub for entertainment on any given night, especially this one. It set him on edge. Despite it all, though, the place retained its warmth and welcoming air.
He almost forgot that the charming but slatternly-looking young woman at the very head of the bar was a psychic. She eyed him with scrutiny under her dark eye shadow, then remarked in a growl, "Really? You're late because you had to go out and get lucky last night?"
Cain flashed her a smirk, shrugging. "What can I say? Dry spell's gotta end sometime."
She rolled her eyes. "He's almost done. The microphone's up there for you, all ready to go."
" 'Preciate it, Jen." His smile turned genuine, and she showed a hint of returning it, but then shot him down with a glare and moved back to toweling off an empty glass. It only made him cackle.
As if it was on cue, as soon as he turned away from her, the whole place filled with a thunder of handclaps and cheers. The man on stage gave a bow before snapping his fingers, and the levitating instruments obediently followed him off stage. "Uuuup next--" a female announcer voice boomed from some unseen source that emanated at perfect pitch from every corner of the bar, "Better late than never, your favorite roughneck from Hell's Kitchen, give it up for.. Cal!"
He took the stage with a couple long-legged leaps through a narrow path the crowd made for him, grinning at them once he took the mic. "Evenin', everyone, how we doin' tonight?" The young man waited for a few whoops from his audience before continuing on. "Good, that's great to hear. Now--" he pointed with the index finger of his free hand "--I am no cliche magician. I don't swallow snakes. I don't pull rabbits out of hats, but, wait, hang on..."
Cain reached behind his back with his free hand, snapped his fingers, then pulled hard on the leather of his jacket, and came back with one of those felt top hats. Though his magic wasn't useful, it was flashy, and he was getting better at unspoken spells the more he practiced them. ".. Or will I?" He did a full turn, showing the audience that he did indeed have nothing behind him but the clothing on his back, all while holding the hat upside down the entire time. "I mean, this has to be empty. There's nothing in it." He gave it a good shake, just to convince them.
He then took a graceful step off the front of the stage and approached the first young woman he could find, only a foot or so away from him. "Won't you reach in and please confirm for everyone in here that there is indeed nothing in that hat?" Cain met the woman's eyes, his own sparkling with mirth as a knowing smirk danced on his lips.
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Post by Brownie on Jun 7, 2017 21:26:18 GMT -5
[ oooo lookin fancy. I'll see what I can do but I'm EST and it's getting late over here so it may have to be a tomorrow morning reply ]
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Post by Brownie on Jun 7, 2017 22:25:13 GMT -5
[ a bit carried away with her adventures leading up to finding the bar heh also, just so I can know, is there any way you'd like to be notified that I've put up a reply? A tag? Just liking the post? None of the above? I have this bookmarked but if you'd like to like a post/tag me it's easier to remember to check ]
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Isabel didn't particularly remember how she had happened to come into this situation, staring eye to eye with a stunning young man holding out his hat to her.
In times like these, it's best to start from the beginning.
It was only her second day in the city, her first spent signing and negotiating paperwork that went along with renting a small one-room in a cheap but charming rue de place. She had told herself in no uncertain terms that she'd work the first day getting settled in: supervising the moving men as they helped unload the two twin chairs her aunt Tammy had sent along for good luck, dusting and exploring the many dressers the landowner had already in the apartment, stocking the fridge with enough food for the next few days. Touring can wait, she had told herself sternly, knowing full well that if she let herself have the slightest bit of freedom her chores wouldn't be done for the rest of the week.
And one couldn't go that long without at least some home-cooked meals.
But the second morning showed her up before the sun, excited as a kid Christmas morning, giving her plenty of time to tame her hair back into a tight tail and pick out an outfit suitable for adventuring in the Big Apple. It had the feel of a transformation, like a caterpillar that finally broke free of its chrysalis. She wasn't Isabel the Farm Girl anymore, but Isabel, Rising Star, Heiress to Hollywood. She couldn't help but smile at that, giving her reflection a quick second glance before slinging a trendy jean handbag over her shoulder, already packed, repacked and double checked for all the essentials a tourist would need in the city. One day, she said, one day to be a tourist before she could begin her new life as a city girl. The thought filled her with excitement, the thrill of trying something new.
She locked the wooden door of her apartment with her new keys, enjoying the soft chick and tinkle they made as she dropped them back into her purse. Even the worn carpet and ancient looking wallpaper were fresh adventures, something new and wonderful to explore. She didn't curse their antiquity, not yet at least, but admired their charm. It was part of the city after all.
Isabel returned to the small grocery at the end of her street, taking several travel brochures with the goal of reaching every destination she could before that evening. Unfortunately, she had not accounted for city traffic. Who knew it took so long to only go four blocks? Yet when she got in the cab for the last time, she felt accomplished with the dent she had made in the list, and the flames of her excitement hadn't been quenched, only mellowed and somewhat sated by satisfied tiredness that made her arms feel heavy and her head light as the clouds.
She had been dozing in the back of the cab, absentmindedly watching the pedestrians file past, oftentimes faster than the cab was moving. She knew it would be faster to walk home, but she still had a twenty left on her tourist budget and she was glad she chose to ride. The people walking past shone red-gold in the late evening light, halos surrounding them as they moved past reflections in the glass storefronts. The scene had a surreal quality to it, a mystical being that was so different from the countryside it took her off guard. It was new, but felt deeply familiar. It was then that she saw the sign: The Broken Tap/annual performance competition TONIGHT 8-9pm. Free fries. Quickly she tapped the glass partition between her and the driver, feeling the tug of adventure, and, she admitted, her stomach. "I'll stop here!"
The driver seemed slightly miffed at her early exit, but merged into the curbside lane so she could exit and pay. She left a five as a tip, feeling a bit guilty for cheating him out of his full payment. "Thank you."
That had been at almost seven 'oclock, and after finding a prime seat near the makeshift stage --complete with a mic, hanging spotlight and keyboard-- she waited eagerly for the bar to fill and performances to begin. Immediately she was enthralled. Several people came on stage to perform small acts: magic, comedy, music, even a poetry reading by an old man in spectacles that made it feel as if she wasn't packed like a sardine in a bar, but feeling the cool spray of the ocean breeze. To each performer she gave due applause, awed at the raw talent the city performers had.
And then he took the stage.
He came through the crowd instead of from the back, and she leaned closer to the table to give him more room to move through, then turned to give him her attention. If he was anything like the others, his performance would be something she wouldn't want to miss a second of.
Then he had stepped back off the stage. Stepped right in front of her. Isabel had to look up to see into his face --she hadn't quite noticed how tall he had been before-- and was locked into his gaze. The back of her neck prickled as she felt the attention of the crowd shift to her and the man, and her heart skipped a beat with nerves until she saw the hat and remembered what he had asked only seconds before. She reached down into the hat, feeling the fuzzy interior for any signs of fake walls and knocking on the bottom for good measure. "It's just a normal hat," Isabel told the crowd, pitching her voice so she could be heard throughout the room.
Good, she thought, allowing herself a smile. She had only been in New York City for two days and already she had a chance to talk to the crowds. Albeit she wasn't the one on stage, not yet, not unless he invited her up for the rest of the trick. Magicians did that sometimes, right? She felt a jolt run down her spine at the thought, full to buzzing again with the thrill of the city.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 7, 2017 23:54:13 GMT -5
no worries at all--the more insight into the character, the better, imo. I personally don't need a like or a tag in any of your replies (I find likes annoying, tbqh). but honestly, whatever you'd like to do is fine. I really don't care that much lmao alright, I'll tag you in future roleplay responses for now on.
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Post by Brownie on Jun 12, 2017 0:31:56 GMT -5
hey just making sure you're still alive ^^
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Post by Deleted on Jun 12, 2017 9:20:06 GMT -5
i am! thank you for checking in on me. long story short I have had an incredibly crazy and stressful couple days, and I'm just now getting back to this site in the midst of it all. thanks for your patience <3 I'm about to go to the gym but you'll get a reply today for sure.
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Post by Brownie on Jun 12, 2017 10:34:19 GMT -5
i am! thank you for checking in on me. long story short I have had an incredibly crazy and stressful couple days, and I'm just now getting back to this site in the midst of it all. thanks for your patience <3 I'm about to go to the gym but you'll get a reply today for sure. heh I feel that. That was two weeks ago for me. Good luck with it. and sure just whenever you have time and want to de-stress
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Post by Deleted on Jun 13, 2017 21:48:28 GMT -5
"Just a normal hat!" The young man confirmed with a bright, gleaming grin. Cain winked at the young woman he approached before taking the felt top hat back. "You got that, everybody? She--claims--that it's a normal hat. No fake walls, no nothin'." He addressed a couple more people seated in the front row of the crowd as he went on, trying to establish a sense of both friendly openness and honesty with all of them. "You could wear this on a date kind a' normal."
He then turned his back to them all again, both hands held in the air to prove that, once again, he had nothing to hide, as he took the stage again. "Now," he began, whipping back around to face them, "I know I said I wouldn't pull a rabbit out of a hat, and I won't. I ain't no cliche, I mean--" The young man gestured towards himself with the hand that held the hat, smirking sheepishly. "Look at me. I'm not one a' them neckbeards from Comic Con that does card tricks out front to pay for his Uber." A low hum of chuckles arose from the crowd, and Cain waited until they quieted down some before continuing.
"So." The young man set the hat down on a small table at the front of the stage. "I won't pull out a rabbit." Cain reached in, moving the mic an inch away from his lips as he gazed into the blackness with a curious intensity--his lips moved quickly, reciting something no lip reader would be able to decipher, and whatever he said was so hushed that the sensitive microphone didn't pick any of it off. A moment later, however, the grin was back, and he pulled out a kitten: a tuxedo-coat little guy, with fluffy fur sticking out at every angle. The thing gave a surprised little mewl, and it sent the crowd into hysterics, clapping and cheering and whistling. The place echoed with it.
Cain smiled, gave the kitten a kiss, then bowed ever so slightly, holding it close to his body. "Now, c'mon, don't cheer for me--it was this guy who did all the work," he said, simpering, and he took a long stride off the front of the stage once more, and returned to the same woman he had addressed earlier.
"I'm broke as hell," he told her honestly, knowing crowds loved to feed off something genuine, "But I wanted to thank you for helping me show everybody here tonight that I'm no fraud. So, I hope you're not allergic to cats." He handed the mewling kitten to her, keeping mind to hold him gently. He snapped his fingers behind his back again, and conjured a fresh rose from a fold in the leather of his jacket--another unspoken spell. "And this, well, for good measure. Every girl likes flowers."
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Post by Brownie on Jun 13, 2017 23:33:39 GMT -5
put me on the spot like that now I need a name for this little kitty xD
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Post by Brownie on Jun 16, 2017 11:00:33 GMT -5
okay apologies for not having a reply, things have been a little hectic as packing for a vacation speaking of which, I won't be on for the next week-ish. I'll probably work out a reply without internet and type it up once I get home.
sorry and hopefully you'll still be interested in continuing after these two weeks of few posts ^^
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Post by Deleted on Jun 18, 2017 18:01:16 GMT -5
no worries at all! I totally understand, busy summers are something you can't help.
yeah I should be! it's all good, have fun on vacation!
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Post by Brownie on Jun 25, 2017 20:12:36 GMT -5
hey I have returned from the darkness heh I don't like vacations I'm a homebody but anyways, working on this tomorrow it'll give me a chance to sit down and unwind instead of running around all day
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