Marshal domenic Kaminski
![Picture](/uploads/1/3/8/4/13845252/5052485.jpg?497)
Marshal is twenty years old, lives in the Waterside Zone, and has never worked an honest day's worth in his life. It all started from a young age. His family was in the lower to middle class range of the zone at water's edge, but the only reason they held so well was because of his parent's bad habits that were passed onto him. Take what you can, when you can. And when an opportunity presents itself, take it. Of course, he too picked up these habits and followed the same rules. If he were to find money on the street, he would take it without a moment's notice and regrets - or at least he would push them away with the reminder and burden that he owed someone something, which was most often the case. It would seem that he always got what was coming, steal from one and become in debt to another, never able to break even or come out on top hardly.
Marshal has been given the title as a Shadow Lurker. He wasn't 'gifted' with the ability that granted him such a name at birth, but gained it after a phenomenon he couldn't explain properly to anyone. It started as a child, between the years of four to eleven - although to be frank he doesn't know when it started exactly due to being so young at the time. For the majority of his childhood years, Marshal would spend his time sitting in his room as he found his own interests and entertainment, but never was he alone he begun to realize. It wasn't uncommon for him to catch sight of movement on the corner of his eye, and turn to see what was there. He'd see nothing but the stale gray corner of his painted walls. On so many occasions, there would be nothing there, but as time grew on, he knew there was always something. Lying in bed at night, he would stare at the dark figure that would steadily make its way across his room. It never looked up to him, and it never faltered on it's path across the foot of his bed, journeying to his window that looked over the river far below. He would be too stiff to blink, but when he finally did, it vanished. He would see a completely different form as he ran up the wooden stairs to his bedroom, stopping short of his doorway as he came eye to eye with another dark figure. This one was not the same as the figure that would stride through his room. This was one that he could tell was looking right at him. He could almost make out two small dots of eyes among the blackness. This was one that struck fear inside him and made his skin crawl. Exhaustion. That was what his parents told him. These figures were caused from too many late nights. Years later, as Marshal began to mature and grow older, he continued to see these figures every so often, but ever since his father was arrested for stealing money from his business and they moved into a smaller home, the appearances were less common. As a child these images became imprinted into his mind, although not all were considered threatening or truly terrifying. There were different ones, and the nature of a collective few weren't negative as others he witnessed as well. When Marshal was fifteen years old, he revisited his old home, still unbought after the two years it had been for sale. Guess the rumors of a child seeing shadow figures actually did reach the ears of people, and behind their simple laughter or shake of the head there was a glimpse of belief as well as a sliver of fear from the child himself. Going back to the house wasn't seen as a bad idea in the mind of teenage Marshal, and when he felt a familiar presence among him, that was when he had been caught in the mistake of curiosity. He does not know what had become of him, that gave him sudden chills and a sickening feeling. Darkness seemed to begin to enclose around the sides of his vision, but never completely took him over. He began to feel as though he was hallucinating, watching as all of his past experiences replayed in the bedroom where he stood. He was in an emotionless state, his fear or confusion weighted down by something heavy, feeling as though strings traveled through his body, tugging any emotion or thought down. Marshal left his old house, feeling an overwhelming amount of anger that had suddenly risen from the previous stalemate of emotions. It was after this, that Marshal became formally known as a Shadow Lurker.
It wasn't just because of the way he would stand around in the streets, sticking to the sidelines as he would glance around, looking for the right person to stumble along and become a target for his prying hands to pick up needed cash that he was called a Shadow Lurker. It was due to the sudden realization that he could now step into a shadow deep enough or dark enough, and vanish within it. Wave your hands through the darkness, try to feel around for him, you wouldn't be able to find him until he stepped back out. Just a simple vanishing act. That should explain it. But Marshal never practiced such a thought for a second in his life. It was something that came over him one day, but for whatever reason, he wasn't frightened by the discovery. Yes, it was slightly offsetting, but it was almost as if he felt as though he wasn't allowed to question what change came over him, or that it was already to be understood and there was to reason to wonder. Something had latched onto him, but instead of fearing it or trying to drive it away, he grew with it.
Marshal stands 5'10 with a broad chest and rather fit looking build. His skin is tanned and smooth, and he has a heart shaped face. His hair is straight and has a spiked look to it, dyed with blonde highlights in his naturally brown hair, along with a few reddish tones. His overall look appears quite loury and hoodlum, already confirming one true assumption about him that he's one who walks among the streets and hangs seems to hang with the minor misfits of the city. Overall, his features are considered rather attractive, but the vibe he gives off is one that deters most who have bit of a higher standard, but there are still a few who would give him a check of qualifying standards despite such.
Marshal has been given the title as a Shadow Lurker. He wasn't 'gifted' with the ability that granted him such a name at birth, but gained it after a phenomenon he couldn't explain properly to anyone. It started as a child, between the years of four to eleven - although to be frank he doesn't know when it started exactly due to being so young at the time. For the majority of his childhood years, Marshal would spend his time sitting in his room as he found his own interests and entertainment, but never was he alone he begun to realize. It wasn't uncommon for him to catch sight of movement on the corner of his eye, and turn to see what was there. He'd see nothing but the stale gray corner of his painted walls. On so many occasions, there would be nothing there, but as time grew on, he knew there was always something. Lying in bed at night, he would stare at the dark figure that would steadily make its way across his room. It never looked up to him, and it never faltered on it's path across the foot of his bed, journeying to his window that looked over the river far below. He would be too stiff to blink, but when he finally did, it vanished. He would see a completely different form as he ran up the wooden stairs to his bedroom, stopping short of his doorway as he came eye to eye with another dark figure. This one was not the same as the figure that would stride through his room. This was one that he could tell was looking right at him. He could almost make out two small dots of eyes among the blackness. This was one that struck fear inside him and made his skin crawl. Exhaustion. That was what his parents told him. These figures were caused from too many late nights. Years later, as Marshal began to mature and grow older, he continued to see these figures every so often, but ever since his father was arrested for stealing money from his business and they moved into a smaller home, the appearances were less common. As a child these images became imprinted into his mind, although not all were considered threatening or truly terrifying. There were different ones, and the nature of a collective few weren't negative as others he witnessed as well. When Marshal was fifteen years old, he revisited his old home, still unbought after the two years it had been for sale. Guess the rumors of a child seeing shadow figures actually did reach the ears of people, and behind their simple laughter or shake of the head there was a glimpse of belief as well as a sliver of fear from the child himself. Going back to the house wasn't seen as a bad idea in the mind of teenage Marshal, and when he felt a familiar presence among him, that was when he had been caught in the mistake of curiosity. He does not know what had become of him, that gave him sudden chills and a sickening feeling. Darkness seemed to begin to enclose around the sides of his vision, but never completely took him over. He began to feel as though he was hallucinating, watching as all of his past experiences replayed in the bedroom where he stood. He was in an emotionless state, his fear or confusion weighted down by something heavy, feeling as though strings traveled through his body, tugging any emotion or thought down. Marshal left his old house, feeling an overwhelming amount of anger that had suddenly risen from the previous stalemate of emotions. It was after this, that Marshal became formally known as a Shadow Lurker.
It wasn't just because of the way he would stand around in the streets, sticking to the sidelines as he would glance around, looking for the right person to stumble along and become a target for his prying hands to pick up needed cash that he was called a Shadow Lurker. It was due to the sudden realization that he could now step into a shadow deep enough or dark enough, and vanish within it. Wave your hands through the darkness, try to feel around for him, you wouldn't be able to find him until he stepped back out. Just a simple vanishing act. That should explain it. But Marshal never practiced such a thought for a second in his life. It was something that came over him one day, but for whatever reason, he wasn't frightened by the discovery. Yes, it was slightly offsetting, but it was almost as if he felt as though he wasn't allowed to question what change came over him, or that it was already to be understood and there was to reason to wonder. Something had latched onto him, but instead of fearing it or trying to drive it away, he grew with it.
Marshal stands 5'10 with a broad chest and rather fit looking build. His skin is tanned and smooth, and he has a heart shaped face. His hair is straight and has a spiked look to it, dyed with blonde highlights in his naturally brown hair, along with a few reddish tones. His overall look appears quite loury and hoodlum, already confirming one true assumption about him that he's one who walks among the streets and hangs seems to hang with the minor misfits of the city. Overall, his features are considered rather attractive, but the vibe he gives off is one that deters most who have bit of a higher standard, but there are still a few who would give him a check of qualifying standards despite such.
Tiago Royle
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Tiago is under the impression that he is king of all. Wherever it may be that he sits, he makes it his throne. To anyone who testifies against the king, he will unleash his followers unto them. Tiago has power. Power of words - simple and cunning, they easily tempt others to look up to him. Power of gesture - small or grand, they can strike fear or gratitude within the hearts of others. He likes to believe he is a gracious king, though throughout his life he's lost more friends than he could count. A cord struck within Tiago when he was younger, as if he suddenly realized there was something more he had to offer. Something set him apart from the others. Once he came to this conclusion, he began to lose his friends. He became stuck up, rude, self-centered - a corrupt king. Looking back, this was not who Tiago wanted to be. He would be the merciful king of generosity; however, that image did not stay for long. People took advantage of the overly endearing and giving king, so he once again changed his ways. He would be a mighty king, one that knew exactly of the power he held so that others would feel his confidence and pride. He defeated the evil that cross his and his few remaining friend's path, showing everyone of his strength. He was later dethroned by the teachers of his high school once they found out he was the one bullying the kids. They were the bullies.
Tiago is now 19 years old and only manages to get by because he is carried by those around him. His power can be taken both literally, and figuratively. If you throw him to the lions, he would somehow manage to go unharmed due to his adaptability and charm. He can manage to get anyone on his side. The lion's attraction through intimidation, beauty, and power. Tiago himself is able to transfer physical attributes of the lion as well, not only the persona of them. His teeth can become razor sharp, seeming to grow and protrude out more, and his nails can become thicker, sharper, and almost claw-like. He becomes a true monster when the beast of the king shows. He is 5'8 with muscle packed beneath his clothing. Though he does not yet completely resembles the broad, bulk of a lion, he is still growing, and it doesn't take much away from his powerful image still.
Tiago is now 19 years old and only manages to get by because he is carried by those around him. His power can be taken both literally, and figuratively. If you throw him to the lions, he would somehow manage to go unharmed due to his adaptability and charm. He can manage to get anyone on his side. The lion's attraction through intimidation, beauty, and power. Tiago himself is able to transfer physical attributes of the lion as well, not only the persona of them. His teeth can become razor sharp, seeming to grow and protrude out more, and his nails can become thicker, sharper, and almost claw-like. He becomes a true monster when the beast of the king shows. He is 5'8 with muscle packed beneath his clothing. Though he does not yet completely resembles the broad, bulk of a lion, he is still growing, and it doesn't take much away from his powerful image still.
Nia Shadowhawk
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Who is Nia Shadowhawk? Exactly. Nobody knows who this girl is, the name never rings a bell, though Nia knows exactly who everyone else is, what they do, where they go. Everyday. Hidden, secluded, is what she prefers rather than lead herself out in the open to receive questioning stares from passing civilians. Nia is roughly the age of eighteen, having long, ruffled brown hair and quizzical dark green eyes that calculate every motion, any ounce of description the iris's can find. Those who did know her, said she was out-going, strong headed and notorious for stealing fresh delicacies from the bakery, always giving them out to the young children down in the homes. Then, one day...she disappeared. Nia failed to show up for school, and all the days after. Her reputation as the perfect student with flawless attendance raised some eyebrows and brought up some concerns. But after a few months, the investigation was not persisted and she slowly faded away into the dark mist of forgotten memories. She was declared dead, and all moved on. But not Nia, she was there when they announced her absent. She was there when they gave up. She'll always be there. The eighteen year old swore, cursed the heavens as those gave up on her. But there was nothing she could do at the time. Nights turned into days, days turned into months, months turned to years. Nia was able to pull herself out of the shadows and regain her appearance, wearing the same attire the day previous before her disappearance. She decided to take care of her ill mother, caring and lending money to save what little they had to support their broken house. Then the day came when Death reaped Nia of her mother's poor soul, and she decided to forget any hopeless notion of trying to act normal and be apart of the human community. Her dark form looks like a mixture of the grim reaper and a corrupted angel. Thick tendrils of darkness encase her shadowy figure like a cloak, keeping all who is sane strictly away from her if they ever get a quick glimpse of how horrible she appears. Though nobody knows of her gift, the ability to mimic shadows and become one. Anyone she has encountered before never dared to ask the secrets she possess, why would they? As a human, she's a dirty street beggar, pleading anyone for food, for money, anything. She's very intelligent and street smart, wandering the dark alleys and trashed rooftops like that of her home, what was left of it.
Ailin Ferrero
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Ashe Blackall
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Ashe Blackall is a blonde-haired school girl with blue eyes. She has long, wavy hair and sidebangs. She wears a strapless white dress, and sometimes wears a green or blue shawl over it when the weather is too cold. Ashe has porcelain colored skin, and gets sunburned easily if she stays outside for too long in the summer. She is an innocent and naive first year student in middle school. Outwardly, she is outgoing and excitable, but she is very awkward around people she does not know. Internally, she is a sensitive and meek person, but eventually learns to gain courage. Ashe is also fond of philosophical musings, and often will vaguely say something that she sees (for instance, remarking "blooming" when seeing a patch of flowers) to no one in particular. Her older sister also describes her as the kind of person who has never hated anyone or had anyone hate her. Ashe's ability is to control and freely move her own blood, and if she tastes someone elses blood she could control there blood as well. She lives in the Rust Zone with her older sister.
Nori Grey
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Nori Grey. She stands at exactly five feet and four inches with a light petite figure. With slender arms and legs she has no muscle definition whatsoever. In fact, despite the fact she's seventeen, because of her height and figure most mistake her for a simple young school girl. Long neat bronze hair cascading down her shoulder, she often wears her hair with two little buns on the side of her head leaving the rest to fall where it may. An intelligent girl, she has an IQ of one hundred and sixty eight, what in human terms would be consider genius level. And that she is. She was number one in her school, exceeding her peers in all her classes, and continued on, skipping grades and graduating at a young age. Nori uses logic and reason for every conflict she's ever come across, though mostly indirectly to where her opponent hadn't even noticed they had been tricked the entire time from the start. Though she usually wears a bored sometimes emotionless expression on her face, Nori is actually a friendly person. Of course she has a dark sense of humor and her "friendliness" is sometimes her teasing or making fun of someone. Despite being cunning and somewhat manipulative Nori is a rather absent minded person and has an odd obsession with strawberries. Raised by her wealthy mother and father, a single child, her parents recognized the great potential in her early in her life after realizing she could solve complex puzzles and beat almost anyone at chess at the age of six through seven. A true gift is what they called it. But because of this, she was an outcast among others. She kept to herself, in a box, sheltered from the world. Staying inside all day reading and challenging herself to games because of this had been a major contribution to increased knowledge. Her true gifted ability is the power called Sonic. Or what most call enhanced speed. Using light waves, Nori can move just as fast as or even exceed the speed of light by moving from one area to the next in what seems to be a fraction of a second. To others she may be seen as a blur or it'll just seem like she disappeared and reappeared from one place to the next. This skill has not only been excellent at fleeing from a scene but attacking also. As seen as she is moving faster than the eye can see, an attack from Nori can be deadly. Though she seems to always be moving from one place to the other, Nori lives in the waterside zone in a very small one floor home.