forum The League (small-ish group) (open, no need for a writing sample)

Started November 05, 2021 by Deleted user

tune

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(Mina: lol, me neither and look how I turned out)

(Tom, screeching: you're just as weird as they are!!)

Name: Efraim Marion, or The Invisible One
Age: 25
Gender/Pronouns: agender & amab, they/them but ppl still refer to them with masculine pronouns bc ofc they do
Orientation: questioning, but probably ace-spec
Appearance: 5’6 with a thin, lanky frame. Their family is from Ottoman Syria, so their skin is olive with warm undertones and can get pretty dark in the summer. They have a narrow, diamond shaped face and a long, but soft looking nose, as well as dark, upturned eyes. Full lips, and a straight, prominent chin. Their hair is wild, dark, and curly, and often gets in their eyes. Has one earring piercing their right ear. Lol, not that you can see them, anyway. Just imagine the outline of a 5’6 tall thin blob for now. Their visible appearance is just very pretty so I had to describe it.
Personality: very quiet, to the point of being selectively mute. Has a rather soft, solemn disposition, and can stay still for a long period of time. Although they seem like a sad invisible statue on the outside, Efraim is a very deep thinker and feeler. It’s just difficult for them to express themselves externally, and the only way they can seem to do this is through art and painting. They also consider themselves a coward, and they often avoid conflict when they can. Their father used to always advise them to pray to God for courage, and Efraim has taken that to heart.
Backstory: Efraim was raised Jewish, and still considers themself to be a pretty religious person. As such, they never really became a thief until circumstances forced them too. Their mother died shortly after giving birth, and their father died when they were around eleven or so. In that time, their father taught them to read Hebrew and read the Tanakh with them often. Their father was an artist, and so he trained Efraim in his practice as well. After he died, his child was given over to an orphanage, but unlike many of the other children, Efraim didn’t become a thief then. No, that happened after they were let out of the orphanage and tried to make a living with their art. Due to the fact that Efraim is a Jewish artist living in the Victorian Era, that plan didn’t go very well, and despite any prayers for provision, no opportunities to get a job seemed to come. No one wanted a Jewish employee. And so, God forgive them, Efraim became a thief. You know the rest.
Other: Even if they’re a thief, they still try to maintain the practices their father taught them. As such, they are on a strictly kosher diet and try to pray three times a day.

Name: Mina Murray
Age: 26 in appearance, chronologically 75
Gender/Pronouns: cis female, she/her
Orientation: bisexual queeeen
Appearance: stands at about 5’5 with a curvy, pear-shaped body. Half-British and half-Romanian, and as such has ivory skin with olive undertones, as well as beauty marks here and there. She has a round, but thin face with a small nose and chin. Her bottom lip is fuller than her upper lip, and her eyes are green, but they turn red whenever she’s feeding on blood or experiencing intense emotions. Her hair is wavy, dark chocolate and pulled into loose coiffures. You’ll usually find her in dresses from the 1830s, and wearing spectacles. Her fangs are small and easily hid when in a poker-faced expression, but still deadly nonetheless.
Personality: oooo yikes uh, Jonathan’s death really did a number on this one. Mina was once very kind and compassionate, extroverted and responded to situations with levelheadedness. However, the death of her fiancé and a newfound need for blood warped her into something else. She became recluse, afraid to hurt or get close to others, and uh, very very depressed, we’ll say. After so many years, she’s become numb and tired as well. Sometimes her emotions and memories all come rushing back and she kinda goes insane, becoming harmful to herself and others. Regularly has s——dal thoughts and put herself out of her misery several times to no avail.
Backstory: Mina became an orphan at a young age, and was raised by her aunts for most of her human life. After she became a vampire, she would write letters to them occasionally and assuring them of her safety, but eventually she stopped in fear of accidentally luring them to the castle and having them as a meal. She did go out once to attend their funerals when they died though.
Additionally, after she became a vampire she gained the ability to speak to and control wolves. Before Dorian came along, they were her few companions. She also gained the ability to transform into a wolf, but only at night.
When she met Dorian, her mental health improved somewhat. Dorian was like her, someone whose funeral she would never have to attend. For a while it was nice, but then one day she remembered her friend from another life, Lucy. If she wasn’t careful, she would end up just like Lucy, drinking the blood of innocent children in a graveyard. So she left Dorian and tried to k—- herself for the second time, but without success.
Other: _{lowkey big tiddy goth gf}

Name: Allan Quatermain
Age: 55
Gender/Pronouns: demi, he/they
Orientation: ace/aro, bc kindred spirits amirite?
Appearance: 5’2 (snickers) and a wiry, but muscular frame. All of his features are very angular, from his sharp jawline to their piercing heterochromia eyes. Even their hair and beard are kinda spiky, colored strawberry blonde, though has several white streaks due to aging, especially below his lip and at their temples.
Personality: the most I can think of rn is that they’re very gruff and surly, but also decently intelligent when it comes to surviving and hunting in the African Savanna.
Backstory: I’m not gonna add anything rn, but I might get some inspiration during the rp
Other: is probably going to go blind in one eye at some point.

Everyone had received it. A letter, addressed in their home language, to attend a dinner party and receive their mission. As well as, an offer, without ultimatum. If any of them refused, well, that was no problem. But M. knew they wouldn’t, at least, most wouldn’t, and the few that would would sway eventually to his side. His players were laid out on the chessboard, and not a single one of them would move without his guidance. If it came down to letting the world destroy itself, or to save it… well, there was a reason he was starting this league, wasn’t there?

He’d offered antidotes, cures, safety, exiles repealed. For all of them, he’d tailored it so that they would either be convinced as soon as they received the letter, or for those he intended to catch rather than persuade, he would lay out instructions to get them on his side easily enough. And so he waited until the day of the meeting, underneath a government establishment made to keep secrets in the room they were spoken, for better or for worse.

And when Sanger Rainsford stepped into the room, he hardly expected to see his old friend, Allan Quartermaine. Let alone the other menagerie of characters that lay before him, all either regal or hardly there at all. He had gotten there last, but certainly not least. All eyes were on him. “W-well, this is certainly not something I would have expected.”

M., from his corner of the room, smiled. With teeth. “Ah, Mr. Rainsford, how delightful it is to see you here today! I almost thought you wouldn’t have come!”

(Lol btw Ice I like how you’re all, here’s a bit more of Sherlock’s backstory, and then proceed to write an entire novel)

(It got longer than I meant it to be 😅)

(Also I want Sherlock and Mina to bond over dead loved ones at some point dmkdkjd)

(Mina: my fiance died :(
Sherlock: my wife and husband died :(
Lmao but yeah they definitely should)

Sherlock was seated in a corner of the room, knees tucked against his chest. He was feeling a bit nauseous, and wasn't sure why. It was probably just exhaustion, he had been sick this morning and hadn't slept well the night before. He hadn't slept well in two months, really. Ever since John and Mary died. He was used to sharing the bed with two other people, used to curling up with them, a tangle of arms and legs and warm bodies. Now it was just him, and it was hard to sleep alone. He looked tired, with dark smudges under his eyes, but still somehow alert, eyes tracking over the group to watch as the newcomers arrived.

Tom was standing, arms crossed. Some of these people made him very uncomfortable. They looked odd or just seemed…off. Maybe this was just because he was American, but he didn't know. He shifted. He was the only one that M hadn't really summoned personally; he had been sent by the American Government to participate in this group. Good old gov; they needed a finger in everything. Even if he didn't understand what the hell was going on here.

"Since we're all-or almost all-here, I suppose I should begin to tell you of our mission. Simply put, Her Majesty wishes to avoid international incident. Namely, a war between the nations, sovereign or…" M. looked over to Captain Nemo, "otherwise." he looked back to the room at large, continuing to speak. "There is a villain, the Phantom, who wishes to see the world destroy itself, and then make a profit off of it. He has captured some of the greatest scientists the nations have to offer, he has stolen from the Royal Treasury, and he has made a fool out of some of our greatest detectives. So, with Her Majesty's permission, I have assembled a League of sorts, of Extraordinary Gentlemen." he explained. "You are that League, or at least most of it. Do you have any questions, or shall I go on?"

Efraim approached the entrance to the room, seeing another man go inside. Not for the first time, they wondered why they were there. In many ways, this could be a miracle from God or their path to their doom. What do they have to offer here? Why did this M. gentleman want them to participate in this?
They entered, hoping against hope that no one would notice what would appear to be a floating notebook and pen drifting into the room. Thankfully, everyone seemed to be focused either on M. or the gentleman who was in front of Efraim.

Mina sat in another corner, her closed parasol resting at her side. As was often the case in the daytime, she was tired, rubbing her eyes so as to prevent them closing completely. At least the importance of this meeting was holding her attention. She rose one eyebrow at the word “Gentleman,” but then again, she seemed to be the only woman here. Questions did arise in her mind, but she decided to save them until the very end. So, she responded to M.’s prompt with silence.

Quatermain stood off to the side, his head snapping in Rainsford’s direction as he entered. They had half a mind to loudly greet his old friend, but M. spoke first, saving them from doing something pretty rude. Quatermain instead gestured to Rainsford to come over, giving the man a small, squinty-eyed smile.

M. continued, he seemed the sort of man that talked a lot because he liked the sound of his own voice. “Well, there is to be a secret meeting of world leaders in Venice, in three days. I have reason to believe Phantom will attack the conference, and destroy any last hope of world peace. The sovereignty of England and Her Majesty’s life are at stake, and I truly hope you all will be up to the task of keeping the peace, lest I come to the need of finding another crew.”

M. made Rainsford uncomfortable, but he did have a point. Even if English affairs didn’t affect him, a world war would throw the world into instability, and most of the people here were as English as bitter tea, so it made sense for him to leverage with that.

“Now, you will have three more members to recruit. I will give you instructions on the first, I cannot risk giving more information than I have already lest the Phantom learn of my plans and try to stop my valiant efforts. I will update you as each member is recruited.”

(What if Efraim literally just doesn’t speak until they’re already on Nemo’s ship and they’re all like- an impostor! But invisible! Until they show their invitation and just,,, literally say “guys chill out I’m not here to cause harm.”)

Nemo's lip curled at the repeated mentions of "her majesty". He cared nothing for England's queen; in fact, they would rather see her dead than alive, but they did not express such a sentiment aloud at this juncture. It would do them no good, and likely create more enemies than was worth having at this point in time. Besides, he did not yet know anything about his supposed comrades in arms in this mission. Better to learn a bit more before creating unnecessary enemies. "I care nothing for the sovereignty of England; it would be better to let it burn." he said, the closest he allowed himself to complete and utter verbal vitriol against the country that had caused the death of those of held dear. "In addition, I should like to know more of this team you have assembled, seeing as how you expect me to be the main method of transportation." or at least, that's what he had assumed. The Nautilus was the fastest and best thing in the world, and its best kept secret thus far. A ghost ship that none save those aboard knew of.

Now seated somewhere where they hoped to remain inconspicuous, Efraim found themself agreeing with the dark-skinned man somewhat. They took notes of things said that seemed important to remember in the notebook, a mix of English and Hebrew littering the page. After which they began using the man as a temporary model, loosely sketching their visage in an attempt to capture the curl of his hair and lip.