Post by Deleted on Jul 15, 2015 7:17:22 GMT -5
Full Name: Richard Jeppesen Iverson
Nickname/Alias: Ricky, Rick, Richie, Rich
Age/Date Of Birth: 32 - July 14th, 1983
Race: Human
Occupation: Criminal Profiler - contracted out to different departments like the FBI, DEA, and ICE
Species Group: Hunter
Play-By: Hugh Dancy
Abilities
Compulsive Empathizer and Remarkable Visual Memory - Richard internalizes and interprets everything he sees. He can create and mold incredibly accurate conclusions based on the evidence in front of him. He often knows what other people are thinking before they are aware of it themselves. His power of foresight enables him to anticipate criminal behavior in order to stop it, which is why the FBI and other agencies call on him so much. His conclusions seem fantastic to others but are usually right, he’s a bit of a Sherlock.
Definitely has the social skills of someone with Asperger's Disorder. He has has a unique ability he uses to identify and understand the criminals he tracks, almost like a photographic memory. For example, he can assume the state of mind a murderer has after visiting the crime scene and recreates in his mind what played out in each different scenario. Often times Richard imagines himself as the killer in order to understand more about them. Unfortunately, the ability to do this shows profound risk to his mental health and can lead to psychological issues in his already fragile mind.
Special Inventory
Special items that are bought from the store will go here.
Likes (At Least 3):
❤ Classical music - It's soothing and soft, helps him relax.
❤ Animals - The gentleness of their nature gives him comfort.
❤ Poetry and writing - Literature provides an escape for him, reading is something he likes to do as often as possible.
❤ Buckwheat - His service dog.
Dislikes (At Least 3):
✗ Violence - Oddly enough since he is a hunter.
✗ Night terrors - He has them frequently enough that he's used to them, but that doesn't mean they're enjoyable.
✗ Drugs - The feeling of not being in control of his own body is something he often feels, he doesn't need drugs to mess with his mind.
Fears (At Least 2):
☬ His mind - It can be a very dark place.
☬ Losing control - Of his body, mind, driving a car, drinking, anything.
Goals (At Least 1):
★ Stop criminals and bad supernatural beings
Personality: A lot of the time Richard avoids social interaction, besides from work, because he feels overwhelmed by his empathy and because he thinks that almost everyone sees him more as an test object, something that needs to be observed and manipulated and played with, rather than a human being. He’s very paranoid that way, though he doesn’t try to be. At first glance, he can come off as cool, blunt, and uninterested. Though those are not his intentions, ever. Richard is out of touch with his own emotions and can be easily overwhelmed with them, which often leads to him not knowing how to interact in certain situations. He tends to say the wrong thing at the wrong time.
His main goal is to believe the best of the people in his life, and he wants more than anything to protect those he cares about from harm. Currently the only family he’s around is his younger brother, Aires, and so there’s very little he wouldn’t do to please him. Richard is not a pushover, he just hates conflict of any kind, and feels like a lot of the time his emotions and feelings are too complex to voice, so he let's things go. Many times observing information is not enough for him, he needs to fully understand it in order to process it, which leads him to ask many questions. Too many questions. He’s a bit annoying sometimes, though he truly doesn’t mean to. Richard is good at thinking outside the norm and imagining multiple possibilities off a single train of thought. Richard is used to being an outcast. His entire life, he’s been different from everyone else, and as hard as he tries to not let it bother him, it does.
Traits
✧ Compassionate
✧ Open-minded
✧ Vigilant
Negatives (At Least 3):
✦ Empathetic to a fault
✦ Out of touch with reality
✦ Cold
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Parents: Jessica Iverson and
Siblings: @bellona - 25, @aires - 27
Other Family: N/A
Important Others: Buckwheat (Buck) - Service dog
History:
Richard was not named after a God or Goddess of War like his two younger siblings, which was very telling because he always was the one kid that never wanted to fight. He was always an observer and listener, even as a little kid. Aires and Bellona would fight and he would watch, or intervene, not enjoying conflict. Richard’s mother used to joke that he was their sensitive child, the quiet, shy one. She wasn’t wrong. In school, Richard was always miles ahead of his classmates, though he’d never brag. If there was a test, he’d usually finish first. But he’d wait to turn his paper in until a few other students turned theirs in first because he didn’t want to be the first one done, the one that all the attention was focused on. He never liked being the center of attention either. All throughout high school he was your typical nerdy kid. He preferred the library to the football field or basketball courts, the isolation of running to the teamwork of soccer, and that often meant he was viewed as an outcast. Bullied, teased, none of it really bothered Richard. He had a small group of friends that he really connected with, his family, and hunting, which was something he learned from a young age.
His father had started teaching him about hunting when he was 8 years old, though he didn’t go on his first hunt until he was 12. That was the rule. The kids could shoot and salt and practice exorcisms all they wanted, the age wasn’t going to change. So his first hunt was special, just Richard and his dad. Aires was 8, so he was angry that he wasn’t allowed to go along, and Bellona was 5… She didn’t really do much but color and play on the little playground the family had in the field next to their house. They shot a werewolf, well, Richard shot the werewolf, his father kept it trapped and bound up. While it was exhilarating and left him speechless, it was terrifying. It was violent and cruel in its own way. Richard didn’t like to hunt, but he did it anyways. And as Aires and Bellona got older, it became a family thing. After he graduated high school he had a full ride to a prestigious college in Baltimore. Leaving home was hard, but he was happy for the opportunity to leave town. College went well for Richard, he put hunting aside and focused on what he truly loved; learning.
Though, during one especially stressful period of time he developed seizures. One night he’d been fine, and then he woke up the next morning on the roof of the house he and a few roommates shared. Thinking maybe the problem was that he’d had too much too drink, he ignored the problem until a few days later he found himself wandering down the street, naked save for his boxers, in the deep snow. He went to the doctor and was diagnosed with Complex Partial Seizures that caused states of psychosis. Moments where he wasn’t in control of his body. Devastated, Richard moved back home and adopted a therapy dog, naming him Buckwheat, and continued college. When his sister was turned on a hunt and the family abandoned her, Richard wasn’t a part of it. He was all in favor of trying to help Bell, not kick her out. But his family kicked her to the curb anyways and there was nothing he could do about it, they cut off all ways to communicate with her, and no matter what Richard tried, the rest of his family shut down. He felt a sort of detachment from them after that. After he graduated with his masters, his good grades, and a paper he wrote on criminal behavior grabbed the attention of the Federal Bureau of Investigation and he was offered a position as a consultant to different police forces across the country. When not doing that, he works as a teacher at the FBI training academy in Baltimore. Of course with his faithful dog by his side. When his dad died unexpectedly a few months ago, he came home, rekindling the relationship he once had with his mother and brother.
Alias: Sofie/Rabbit's Foot
How did you find us?: The old site
Experience: Long periodlodically time.
Other Characters: Asmodeus, Amon, Allocer, Bellona Iverson, Cole Abernathy, Hadley Klassen, Solviegh Prevedello, Valentine Haverland, Luna Meechum, Karis Jacobs, Elena Haverland, Arie Rangon, Prasad, Silver Haverland, Kamila Korchak, Mika Prescott
RP Sample:
Some nights were impossible, and this was one of them. Remy was tired, and annoyed at nearly everyone that entered the club. It seemed like every little girl was up here trying to get the boys at the bar to give her a free drink and the men were no better. They swaggered up to the bar like they were the toughest boys on the block and started calling her ‘baby’ and ‘honey’, like they had a chance at getting it in with her. Not all of them were ugly, or entirely unattractive, but she preferred her men to be a little more composed. Remy was working a double shift because some asshole couldn’t be bothered to show up to his shift, and that just added to her anger. Who did that? A person that ditched work deserved to be fired, and Remy seriously hoped he did. She hated wishing bad things on other people, but wouldn’t be terribly upset if the guy got fired. This wasn’t some child’s play job, and despite the looks she received when she told people that she was a bartender, you had to know your shit. There were hundreds of varieties of drinks to have to memorize, and the more drinks you made the better you became at it. The more you knew the drink, the faster you could mix it up, and that led to a larger tip. No one wants to wait for their drinks.
All those little flips you could do with the bottle, those came with due time. Remy could do about half as many tricks as everyone else, and that caused her to feel nothing short of utter humiliation. She had a need to be better, a need to be the best. And a realization that her bottle flipping skills couldn’t compare to those of the more experienced, older bartenders. The basic flips and easy little spins on her heels she had down, but ask her to do anything else and there’d be shattered glass all over the floor. Remy hated it, and the envy she felt when people clapped and cheered for the other bartenders was at an all time high tonight. Stupid Davis was showing off for some brunette with legs ten miles long and a tan so dark that you could practically smell the tanning lotion coming off.
Rolling her eyes, Remy poured a couple shots of tequila for a lady and then went back to wiping down the counter and making sure all the bottles were clean and full. This was the boring part of her job, wiping down bottle after bottle. Couldn’t have a single sticky one, or a half empty one, or anything that looked messy and in disarray. So she wiped and straightened and poured drinks and kept looking at the clock every five seconds, wanting her shift to be over already. Remy yawned and looked over at Jeremy, he was still flipping bottles. She furrowed her eyebrows and scrubbed the counter a little harder. Just as she was about to yawn again, like they’d sensed that she was bored and on cue started up, two obviously drunk guys started yelling at each other. That really wasn’t anything new, yelled and fought around here all the time. You called over the bouncer, or security, and that was that. But this time was different, much to her entertainment. These guys were big, drunk, loud, and they’d started to throw punches. So a couple random people tried to step in and be heroes, and they ended up getting sucked into the fight too.
Oh man, was this good. But she had to step in, now it was getting serious. There were multiple security guards rushing around, trying to pry the fighting people apart. She could hear their panicked voices on their walkie-talkies, and that was enough for her to understand that this was big. There usually weren’t massive fights like this, at least not that she’d seen. But she’d only been there a couple of months, so maybe this was a common thing. Either way, Remy stepped in. Not that it was really her place, but she didn’t want anyone to actually get kill tonight. Moving quickly around the counter, she pushed her way through the thick crowd and grabbed the back of some guy’s shirt. Yanking him back roughly, the man whirled around, slapping her arms away. He looked like he was about to hit her, and she braced herself for it. But he didn’t, and instead just stormed off, shoving his way through the mass of people.
Adrenaline pumping through her veins, heart thudding loudly in her chest, Remy moved in on another guy. This guy was actually bleeding, all over. Blood ran down out of his nose, over his lips, onto his shirt, and onto the ground. Remy grabbed him by the arm, and at first he pulled away. But she tugged him on until he followed her over to the bar and sat on one of the stools. Remy leaned over and grabbed a few paper towels, then handed them to the guy. He didn’t need to be bleeding all over everyone over there, it was gross and messy and not okay. The guy tried saying something, but he was way too drunk for it to actually make any sense. Remy just pushed more paper towels towards him and tried to keep an eye on the fight still happening. While security had managed to clear up a huge chunk of the fighting people, some die-hard fighters were still going at it.
Behind her a man started yelling, but she didn’t think anything of it until she was sandwiched between two screaming men. What were they yelling about? Remy didn’t have the slightest clue. All she knew was that the bleeding guy was standing up, tossing the paper towels to the side and grabbing for the other man. That was it. Remy put both her arms out, shoving them both apart as much as she could. But she wasn’t anything special, and the men easily pushed right back. If there was something she hated above all other things, it was getting pushed around. In a furious moment, Remy turned and shoved the bloody-nose guy down onto the stool. “Just sit down!” She yelled, her voice holding enough of a demanding tone that he listened. Spinning around to the other man she pushed him back with both hands this time, so it sent him reeling backwards. Remy almost ordered him to leave, but she couldn’t think of any clever way to put it. People in movies always had the coolest catch phrases, yet she couldn’t think of a single one. Security stepped in before she really had a chance to say anything, and led both men out.
Remy bit her lip, watching the crowd slowly disperse. So she’d wanted exciting, but maybe next time she’d try for a little less exciting.
All those little flips you could do with the bottle, those came with due time. Remy could do about half as many tricks as everyone else, and that caused her to feel nothing short of utter humiliation. She had a need to be better, a need to be the best. And a realization that her bottle flipping skills couldn’t compare to those of the more experienced, older bartenders. The basic flips and easy little spins on her heels she had down, but ask her to do anything else and there’d be shattered glass all over the floor. Remy hated it, and the envy she felt when people clapped and cheered for the other bartenders was at an all time high tonight. Stupid Davis was showing off for some brunette with legs ten miles long and a tan so dark that you could practically smell the tanning lotion coming off.
Rolling her eyes, Remy poured a couple shots of tequila for a lady and then went back to wiping down the counter and making sure all the bottles were clean and full. This was the boring part of her job, wiping down bottle after bottle. Couldn’t have a single sticky one, or a half empty one, or anything that looked messy and in disarray. So she wiped and straightened and poured drinks and kept looking at the clock every five seconds, wanting her shift to be over already. Remy yawned and looked over at Jeremy, he was still flipping bottles. She furrowed her eyebrows and scrubbed the counter a little harder. Just as she was about to yawn again, like they’d sensed that she was bored and on cue started up, two obviously drunk guys started yelling at each other. That really wasn’t anything new, yelled and fought around here all the time. You called over the bouncer, or security, and that was that. But this time was different, much to her entertainment. These guys were big, drunk, loud, and they’d started to throw punches. So a couple random people tried to step in and be heroes, and they ended up getting sucked into the fight too.
Oh man, was this good. But she had to step in, now it was getting serious. There were multiple security guards rushing around, trying to pry the fighting people apart. She could hear their panicked voices on their walkie-talkies, and that was enough for her to understand that this was big. There usually weren’t massive fights like this, at least not that she’d seen. But she’d only been there a couple of months, so maybe this was a common thing. Either way, Remy stepped in. Not that it was really her place, but she didn’t want anyone to actually get kill tonight. Moving quickly around the counter, she pushed her way through the thick crowd and grabbed the back of some guy’s shirt. Yanking him back roughly, the man whirled around, slapping her arms away. He looked like he was about to hit her, and she braced herself for it. But he didn’t, and instead just stormed off, shoving his way through the mass of people.
Adrenaline pumping through her veins, heart thudding loudly in her chest, Remy moved in on another guy. This guy was actually bleeding, all over. Blood ran down out of his nose, over his lips, onto his shirt, and onto the ground. Remy grabbed him by the arm, and at first he pulled away. But she tugged him on until he followed her over to the bar and sat on one of the stools. Remy leaned over and grabbed a few paper towels, then handed them to the guy. He didn’t need to be bleeding all over everyone over there, it was gross and messy and not okay. The guy tried saying something, but he was way too drunk for it to actually make any sense. Remy just pushed more paper towels towards him and tried to keep an eye on the fight still happening. While security had managed to clear up a huge chunk of the fighting people, some die-hard fighters were still going at it.
Behind her a man started yelling, but she didn’t think anything of it until she was sandwiched between two screaming men. What were they yelling about? Remy didn’t have the slightest clue. All she knew was that the bleeding guy was standing up, tossing the paper towels to the side and grabbing for the other man. That was it. Remy put both her arms out, shoving them both apart as much as she could. But she wasn’t anything special, and the men easily pushed right back. If there was something she hated above all other things, it was getting pushed around. In a furious moment, Remy turned and shoved the bloody-nose guy down onto the stool. “Just sit down!” She yelled, her voice holding enough of a demanding tone that he listened. Spinning around to the other man she pushed him back with both hands this time, so it sent him reeling backwards. Remy almost ordered him to leave, but she couldn’t think of any clever way to put it. People in movies always had the coolest catch phrases, yet she couldn’t think of a single one. Security stepped in before she really had a chance to say anything, and led both men out.
Remy bit her lip, watching the crowd slowly disperse. So she’d wanted exciting, but maybe next time she’d try for a little less exciting.
I (Richard Iverson) have read the site rules and understand them. The code word for the rules is: (Batman)
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Application Created By Hell Hound
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