In the year 2210, humanity was overrun by a terrible virus, although they had no idea at first. It began on earth, as far as anyone could tell, and It spread like any other run-of-the-mill virus: coughs, sneezes, unwashed hands, etcetera. It was fairly innocuous, slipping under the radar as just another strain of Cold or Flu.

Through merchant vessels, personal ships, and military cruisers, the virus left Earth and began to spread throughout the colonies within the solar system. Mars was first, being that it was the first colony to be established off-earth it was also the largest.

The Martians were particularly susceptible, their bodies adapted with larger lung capacity and therefore a greater surface area to be infected. Next came the Venusians. With their densely-packed habitation bunkers, germs spread quickly. After that, came the Kuiper mining colonies. Their sparsely-populous nature and tendency to be within their spacewalking suits most of the time slowed infection significantly, but after several years, they too became fully infected. Lastly, it reached cold Europa. Indoor living and suppressed immunity proved to be the Linchpin of their fate.

Once the colonies had become fully inundated, the plan was set in motion. As if a switch was flipped, the virus's dormant RNA that had embedded itself in the cells of every citizen of the human empire was activated. Immediately it went to work, attacking the chromosomal telomeres and shortening them. With this, cells are unable to divide efficiently, and the human population begins to age rapidly.

Young children began to bald, and wrinkle, their joints weakened, while still stuck in the bodies of juveniles. The elderly rapidly died off as their cells were completely unable to replicate.

Within 3 short years, the population had been reduced by over half. The remnants of humanity worked tirelessly to find a cure, and when they had nearly given up hope, a breakthrough happened at TBR (Tiedemann Biological Research) Labs. A new substance known as "Neoplasmin" was created, an injectable fluid that reversed the telomeric shortening process...but only temporarily. Soon the world economy revolved around it, everyone needed it but only one corporation produced it. The Rich never had to worry, and the poor struggled to keep their doses and a roof over their heads at the same time, effectively widening the wealth gap to a terrifying degree.

The year is now 2219, people are jaded and desperate, crime is rampant, and at any turn, you could catch a knife in your back for the small blue vials in your pocket. But more than all that, something was fundamentally wrong with the world. Why would TBR patent and privatize such an essential and life-saving medication? And better yet, how did they even DO it when nobody else even came close? And if Mr. Tiedemann was such a well-known Misanthrope, why would he even bother trying to save mankind?

*This is where our characters would come in, detectives or Would-be detectives setting out to get to the bottom of not only the biggest mystery humanity has ever seen, but also find a way to solve the biggest crisis facing it right now.*

Calm-exterior psychopath, convinced he is doing God's work by murdering those he deems to be heretical or degenerate. A one man Spanish Inquisition.


Name: Galen Sauvage De la Croix
Age: 29
Sex/Gender: Male
Ethnicity: French-Occitanian parentage
Occupation: Stockbroker
Socioeconomic status: Upper Class
Education: Masters in Business Administration

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Physical Appearance
Eye color: Hazel
Skin color: warm ivory
Hair color: Deep black
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 186lbs
Body type: toned
Fitness level: high
Tattoos: N/A
Scars/birthmarks: Scarification everywhere except hands and face; excerpts of biblical verses, Sins, self-flagellations, etc. Think Joseph Seed From FC5
Other distinguishing features: Small mole on left ear
Disabilities: N/A
Fashion style: Modern Cary Grant
Accessories: gold ring inset with a suspicious, large blood-red stone.
Cleanliness/Grooming: Spotless
Posture/Gait: Proper, almost too much.
Coordination (or lack thereof): Highly coordinated, calculated, like a machine.
Weaknesses: Any human weakness

History
Birth date: March 11th, 1995
Place of birth: New York, New York
Key family members: Abusive Religious Zealot father
Notable events/milestones: Baptism, first murder
Criminal record: Clean
Affiliations: Novae Eden Communalism Church
Skeletons in the closet: More like all over LOL

Psychological Traits
Personality traits: Kind but stern, firm but fair (when in public)
Temperament: When slighted, viscious
Introvert/Extrovert: Extroverted
Intelligence: IQ 138
Self-esteem: High
Hobbies: Taxidermy
Skills/talents: Knifework, agile
Morals/Virtues: Donates much of his earnings to charities
Phobias/Fears: God, damnation
Angered by: Homosexuals, sex-workers, idolatry, other religions, the rich, etc
Routines: in depth morning skin and body care routine
Bad habits: Murder
Flaws: Obsessive
Favorite sayings: "Can't expect god to do ALL the work."

1. You add first, you message first. I'll do the same!
2. ERP is okay if it is a component of the plot, but not the center of it. That's not what I'm here for. I'm the kind of guy that's gets uncomfortable during sex scenes on TV lol
3. Keep things between characters/OCs. I'm happily engaged to a stunning goth lady, don't pull anything funny because she knows how to end us both.
4. I'm a very busy person, I work full time and have a household to take care of as well so I don't always have a lot of free time in my day. This means I might not be able to get back to you right away. Don't worry though, I will get back to you when I can!
5. I'm open to create custom characters if the ones I've created don't jive with you, I will need some time to come up with something though.
6. Try to be literate within reason. Little spelling or punctuation mistakes here or there are negligible though, I'm not perfect either!


May add more in the future as the need arises!


PS Read thoroughly or I'll find you.

Coming Soon - WIP
Name: Joszev Bartosz
Gender: Male
Sexual/Romantic Orientation: Bisexual
Age: 28
Occupation:

Height: 5'10"
Build: Lean muscle
Skin Tone: Warm Ivory
Hair: Deep Brown
Eyes: blue
Identifying Marks: Various scars across his body from dominance bouts with other werewolves
Appearance: Young and handsome, a picture perfect face with a battle scarred body

Personality: Self assured, Narcissistic and vain.
Current Goal: Find his progenitor
Life Goal: Break his curse without killing himself OR coexist with it in peace
Best Quality: Agile
Worst Quality: Over confidence
Fears: Wolfsbane, Silver
Skills: Heightened senses, strength, agility

Alignment: True Neutral
Group/Organizational Affiliations: N/A

Family: Estranged
Relationship Status: Single
Significant Other: N/A

Character Chart
Character’s full name: Roland Andrew Thompson
Reason or meaning of name: "Fame of the land"
Character’s nickname: Rollo
Reason for nickname: short-form
Birth date: March 14th, 1863

Physical appearance
Age: dependant
How old does he/she appear: 28
Weight: 235bs
Height: 6'1"
Body build: Muscular with a little extra padding
Shape of face: oval
Eye color: deep green
Glasses or contacts: none
Skin tone: moderately tanned
Distinguishing marks: 3 claw scar across left cheek
Predominant features: wideset jaw, prominent brow.
Hair color: Auburn
Type of hair: lightly textured
Hairstyle: medium length (Think Sam Winchester, season 6)
Voice: rough, but soft spoken.
Favorite outfit: Black Cape coat, white double breasted shirt, wine-red waistcoat, wide brimmed cavalry hat
Jewelry or accessories: Two S&W Model 3 Revolvers; One nickel plated and one black


Personality
Good personality traits: Steadfast, Courageous,
Bad personality traits: Reckless, short-temper
Sense of humor: Average, but slightly dark
Character is most at ease when: Alone in nature
Priorities: Staying alive, not losing himself
Character’s soft spot: Children and animals
Greatest strength: Does well under pressure
Character’s darkest secret: The demon that has taken residence in his soul
Does anyone else know? Nobody above ground

Habits
Hobbies: Sketching
Plays the Bandola
Smokes cigarettes
Drinks when he can
Other drugs: Laudanum for pain and sleep
Extremely skilled at: Reading people
Extremely unskilled at: Opening up to them

Traits
Pessimistic
Introverted
Daredevil
Logical
methodical
Prefer working or relaxing? Relaxing, when he can
Confident in the moment, unsure when Alone with his thoughts
Animal lover


Relationships with others
Opinion of other people in general: People are flawed, but good overall
Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? Often
Love interest(s): Puts up walls for everyone, but the right person could bring them down.
Roland was once no more than a normal teenager. He grew up on a farm with his family, spending his days tending to the animals and pulling weeds in the fields. One morning he awoke from his slumber, the sound of birdsong and roosters crows outside his bedroom window. He yawned sleepily and sat up in his bed. Stretching as he went he begrudgingly removed his pyjamas and slipped on his slacks, button-up, and his socks before proceeding downstairs. The smell of johnnycakes and sweet syrup wafted throughout the house. He greeted his mother, father, and little sister. They chatted over breakfast about what needed to be done around the home, and what had been happening in their lives lately, who they'd bumped into in town, the cost of animal feed, the typical mundane of the farming life. Roland often wished for more excitement in his life, but truthfully he enjoyed the quiet security.

Finishing breakfast he slipped on his boots, securing the buckle tightly before making his way outside. He stopped by the well where he had fitted an Archimedes screw for easily filling the large water troughs. Roland had always been inventive, constantly coming up with new devices to make life a little easier. He turned the device, and as the water began to flow he noticed something odd; the barn door was ajar, and yet the cattle were nowhere to be seen. Roland felt uneasy but decided it best to check it out for himself.

As he neared the doors he was hit hard with the strong sharp odour of Iron and copper; the smell of blood, But there was something else too.

"Sulphur?" Questioned Roland.

He was apprehensive, but collecting himself he opened the doors and was greeted with a grisly sight. The cattle had been slashed and torn apart, their viscera hanging from the rafters like some hellish tinsel streamers. Roland felt his breakfast attempting to escape, but he kept his composure the best that he could. He cried out for his Father, unsure what else to do.

"What is it, Roland? What are you screaming for?" Said Leopold
"What in the goddamn...what the hell happened here?"

Roland's mother and sister, Nora and Adriana, exited the front door to see what the commotion was, looking on in horror at the scene inside the barn. Suddenly, a deep voice emanated from behind Roland.

"So nice of you to bring the whole family, I was going to have fun hunting them down one by one but I Laud your efficiency, boy" A dark figure emerged from the shadows, a pale man that Roland recognized as their neighbour Karl Palmer who had gone missing while hunting about a week ago.
"K-Karl? You did this?" Roland eked out.
"Oh no of course not, I'm just using Karl's body in his absence. This vessel wears thin however, I'll need a replacement soon. But why all the exposition, you won't remember any of this when you're dead." The entity said as if it were some twisted joke.

The man lurched forward, faster than any Roland had ever seen. He struck Roland in the head with a branding iron, dropping it by his feet as Roland collapsed. Roland felt the concussion ring out in his skull. He couldn't muster the strength to lift a finger. he could only watch as the man approached Leopold, drawing an odd-looking dagger and plunging it into the aging farmer's heart. 3 other men emerged from the sides of the home, joining the first as they surrounded the two women.

"Take the girl." Said the man.

Nora protested, jumping in front of her daughter, where she was promptly cut down by one of the devil's henchmen.
Adriana let out a bloodcurdling cry, somewhere between a wail and a scream, before she was seized, bound, and thrown into a nearby wagon.
"Go quickly, Don't be seen. I'll catch up with you later"

Roland struggled, managing to make it to his feet.

"Aha, you're alive, are you? You're stronger than you look, boy. Perhaps I've found my next vessel after all."

The man grinned a toothy and unnatural smile. He began to run toward Roland, mouth opened wide as a thick black smoke burst forth from it.

"Sh*t!" Cried Roland, grabbing the branding iron that lay at his feet.

In a last-ditch, Roland mustered what strength he had left and swung the iron at the twisting and writhing mass of black, ethereal tentacles. Bright orange sparks of electricity danced across the rod as it passed through, disrupting it somewhat. As the mass reached Roland it entered his body, through his mouth and nose it reached his lungs, spreading and diffusing through every blood vessel and every nerve fiber. Roland blacked out.