OoC: Gonna add another character here.. 

 OoC: We'll start pretty soon here, guys. And if others happen to stumble upon this late, then they can join in later. Sound like a good idea? 

((I'm making another.))

Name: Zack Oscar.

Gender: Male.

Age: 18.

Appearance: [Deion is preferred, but if it’s a **good pic, go ahead and use it] Zack is very, very tall. He has rough, spiky black hair with blue streaks. He wears a black "bikers" jacket, black and white sneakers, dark blue jeans with holes, a glove on his left hand, and a tatoo of a blue dragon on his right arm.

What are you: [human, Curser, Cursed, etc] Curser.

State your angle: [for the Government, not for, for the Cursers…] Cursers, all the way.

History: [optional] N/A.

General Information: [State your character's ability, or their curse they can give out, etc... And just general info and maybe some stuff about personality if you wish] Zack's curse is named by him "The Snake Curse". It's called that because it turns his victom into a snake. But the up side is, the person can live forever, but the only as a snake. The curse is off once the person has been bitten by a certain kind of snake, (Which only Zack knows about) then they turn back to human, and they have their normal life-span.

Theme song: [very much optional ^^] N/A.

[Reseved for my bio, which I am just making. <33]

First name: Tybalt (T-bolt)
Middle name: Athalos
Surname: Fendrel
Alias: Whisper
Age: Seventeen 
Gender: Male
Date of birth: October 31st
- - - -
Mother: Thea Fendrel
Mother's meiden name: Borin
Fater: Rowan Fendrel
Siblings: None
- - - - 
Hair: Anburn red. Medium length.
Eyes: Golden yellow.
Figure: Slim yet muscular
Blood type: AB+
Abnormalities: He has a large scar running down his back and a small scar on his cheek.
Height: 5ft 12"
Weight: 9 stone.
Picture:





- - - - 
Domineering Trait: Sly.
Main Virtue: Quick witted.
Main Vice: Distrusting and manipulative.
Personality Deion: Tybalt is slyer than a fox, he can get him self out of almost any scrape he gets himslef into, which is a good thing, since he gets into many. He's a definite ladies man, a casanova if you will, and tends to shape them to suit his will. He seems charming at first but get to know him and you'll see he's really quite distrusting and manipulative.
He is rather cunning when push comes to shove, he'll always find a short cut when ever he has to do anything. He's quite smart when you get down to it and often hides his brains to get out of doing work.
- - - -
Likes: Practicing shooting, training his skills, fire, ladies, playing with people's heads, night time, the moon, quiet people/things/places, guns and fighting.
Dislikes: Loud people/things/places, people who try to get close to him, those smarter than him, water, day time, the sun and fish.
Habits: He bites his thumb nail until it's raw when nervous.
Pet hates: Clingly people.
Fears/Phobias: Thunder.
Skills/Abilities: Great a shooting, fast and agile.
Cursed/Curser/Govornment: Cursed
Angle: Cursers all the way.
Curse: He can transform into a small red fox. He can only do this at night, or when he is extremly agitated, though each time he does, it becomes harder to turn back and he becomes more animalistic, until, one day, he will become a fox for good.

[Thanks Nightmare. <33]

((I could start...))

[-doesn't want to start- ¬_¬]

((I guess I will, then.))

Name: Chandler Peacock

Gender: Male

Age: 28

Appearance:

What are you: Curser

State your angle: For the cursers, but for their advantage, pretending to be a member of the government

History: At the age of 19, Peacock was found out to be a curser. He was put into prison. Three years later, he convinced the gonvernment that he had been stripped of his powers and begged to join them. Being as weak as they were at the time, and needing more people who were for them, they accepted. 

General Information: He gives out a curse which sort of gives people nightmares. Of course, being cursed WOULD give people nightmares anyway, but his curse makes people see visions of things they don't want to see.
Chandler Peacock is a very sly, devious and misleading person. He is an exceptionally good liar.

Theme song: It's not a song, but... Danse Macabre.

OoC: Here we go. ^^

BiC: Survive. Just... survive, she thought. Tears pricked her eyes. The capitol was cruel. 

Rachel hit the "save" button. She had 200 people who read her fanfic, so she dedicated one hour a day to writing. Then it was off to work. Sigh. The stood up from her desk, stretching. She took a look at her appearance in the mirror. Good. She looked normal enough. She put some earrings in and put some silly bands on her right wrist. She glanced at the spanish textbook lying on her desk next to her laptop and made a face. 

Why must she have to go though highschool when she was already taking all AP cl*censored*es and already had a job? She almost laughed at the question, because of course she knew the answer.

She skipped down the steps leading to downstairs and headed outside into the city. Convergence. The sun was just starting to set.

The best time to try and find some Cursers. She peered at the cafe across from her house. It was the meeting place, the place where some person who worked for the Government would tell her who her next target was. She crossed the street and opened the door.

It was empty except for the cashier, a plain looking girl, and somebody sitting at a table reading a newspaper. Rachel grinned. She walked over and slid the newspaper out of the person's hands.

"Hello, pretty boy," she said, smirking. A girl... or a guy peered up at her. At the sight of the girl, he sighed, obviously annoyed. He a ran a hand through his strawberry blonde hair.

"Oi, I was reading an interesting article," he said. Rachel shrugged.

"So?" she said. "Who's my next target?" The guy stood up. And was just barely taller than the girl.

"A girl who the Government suspects works for the Cursers. Her name's Ryka," he said, and slipped Rachel a picture. Rachel smiled.

"Thank you,"she said, and flounced at the door.

Jay grimaced. What a freako. If anybody could get on his nerves, that girl could. 

-x-

Amy felt a cold hand grabbing at her heart. Just who were those guys? That 15-year-old-girl wasn't normal. She had asked that guy "who her next target" was.

Oh well, she thought. It doesn't concern me. Work does. That's when the girl (or boy?) who the girl had been talking to walked up to the cash register. He laid two dollars on the counter.

"Just a tip," he/she said, then proceeded to walk out the door.

OoC: I'll keep my other characters on the back burner for now~ 

[I'll post Tybalt's into tomorrow, it's past midnight in Merry Ole' England.]