Post by Deleted on Sept 15, 2014 2:26:23 GMT -5
Full Name: Dallas Valonia Younglove
Nickname/Alias: Dall, That Crazy B*tch
Age/Date Of Birth: 22, August 13 1992
Race: Human
Occupation: Hunter
Species Group: Veteran-Seasoned Hunter
Play-By: Ke$ha
Abilities
Brawler - Dallas is an accomplished fighter. She comes from a long line of boxers and prefers to knock things out to using weapons. She has a couple sets of brass knuckles but doesn't need them to effectively beat the crap out of things. She loves it - earns cash she doesn't steal by hustling underground fight clubs and boxing rings.
Sherlockin' It - Dallas studied constantly while on the road with her father (not much else to do in a car for hours and hours on end). She has studied and applies deductive reasoning when on a case. She's rather good at it. She also tends to work a lot with the homeless, especially orphans, to put the odds in her favor, get info, etc, as well as uses impromptu disguises. Basically she is super adept at using Sherlockian mystery solving tropes.
Liver Values - She can really hold her liquor. (I'm just doing this to be funny at this point, I'm sorry if that's not allowed, I'm in a super goofy mood)
Special Inventory
Special items that are bought from the store will go here.
Likes (At Least 3):
❤ Booze
❤ Broads
❤ Raziel
Dislikes (At Least 3):
✗ Mother
✗ People touching her radio
✗ Weaklings/people who don't help themselves
Fears (At Least 2):
☬ Raziel's rejection
☬ That she will become her parents
Goals (At Least 1):
Get her relationship with Raziel back to what it was when they were kids
Personality:
Dallas is a crass, headstrong bulldozer of a hunter. She is a protector at heart, intensely so when it comes to Raziel. When it comes to hunting, Dallas has no shortage of confidence. She swaggers through bar back alleys, busts her way into vacant buildings and can hotwire a car faster than you can say "Winston Churchill." There is very little in this world that Dallas is afraid of and even fewer that she'll admit to. Being exposed to the life of a hunter since birth, Dallas adapted to the horror around her by cultivating a strong sense of power. She quite literally laughs in the face of danger, looks at near death situations as "opportunities." This can be mistaken for recklessness but the truth is, despite appearances, Dallas never goes into a situation without a plan or five of how to get out of it alive. She has an adventurer's soul but deep down buried in her heart, she craves a normal life with her brother and dad. Despite this, she knows she will never stop hunting and she knows what happens to those who don't stop. The reality of her own eventual tragic end is too much for her to bear thinking about so she doesn't, she just puts one foot in front of the other, determined to ride this rocket all the way to its glorious crash.
Dallas is an acquirer of things. Scrunchies, bangles, knives, keychains, gum - you name it, she always seems to be in steady supply. She has little to no moral quandaries with petty crimes so long as they don't involve threatening or hurting anyone physically. She frequents strip clubs and whorehouses in addition to local watering holes to get tips/intel. And while the clientele might not be, Dallas is just as comfortable in the seedier side of the city as she is walking into an upscale establishment. She doesn't attempt to blend physically but it is next to impossible to make her self conscious about her appearance/manners.
Despite her sloppy manner of dressing and variable sense of hygiene, Dallas is an incredibly intelligent woman. She graduated from Yale egregia cum laude by doing her classes online. She is naturally curious about everything around her, very much the type to dive ahead than take the most cautious route.
While on the surface Dallas is a rambunctious wildchild with extroversion for days, Dallas has buried deep a bitterness that she quite literally spends some nights drinking to forget. Her sense of self, her whole world, has always been hunting and while she loves it, she resents it intensely (and secretly). Hunting has controlled her life, tied her to her father to the point of losing her little brother, losing her mother, and has formed in her a compulsion to hunt that thrills and chains her to it. She cannot be satisfied by a normal life and she is extremely frustrated by how thoroughly dictated the course of her life is by this liifestyle she never had a chance to look beyond. She knows it will kill her because she won't retire like her father, who hunted as a duty or repudiate it like her mother, who had only hunted out of fear. She won't stop until she is stopped. And if Raziel decides to go back to the civilian life their mother had put him into, she will be completely alone. The immense frustration this contradiction creates is a source of energy for her, feeds into her constant high energy. She twists it into the mask of the funny, carefree partygirl she wears until she tricks herself into believing that's who she is.
Living on the road taught Dallas to never invest in relationships past the fun and emotional fulfillment she could jampack in for the couple days she'd get to have it. This made for a lot of brief, very intense flings. This also made for a lot of friendships kept in great shape because she'd breeze into town, act like she'd never left and then breeze out again before anything could sour. One of the most important romantic relationships she'd had was the longest, an off and on again relationship with an eastern European stripper named Ylsa. Besides Raziel or her parents, Ylsa is the only other person she would drop everything for if she were in trouble. That is, if she knew how to get ahold of Dallas at any given time. But even Ylsa she has maintained emotional barriers with so that she can leave without thinking it hurts. Raziel is the only person Dallas has an open heart to, the only one she really thinks could be a lifetime companion.
For this reason, she finds his abdication of hunting and new life extremely distressing. Right now, her focus is to enjoy her time with him to the fullest, teach him as much of what she knows as she can and to protect him from harm. She wants nothing more than for him to decide to stay with her once the two years he promised to live hunting with her is up.
Traits
✧ Natural leader
✧ Resourceful
✧ Quick-witted
Negatives (At Least 3):
✦ Sharp-tongued/Harsh
✦ Pushy
✦ Resists advice/other perspectives
[/ul]
Parents: Joseph Younglove and Ethel Zywicki
Siblings: Raziel Alain Zywicki (brother)
Other Family: No (Estranged from them)
Important Others: A long line of past flames, lots of bar owners her father had dealings with over the years
History: Dallas was raised hunting on the road with her parents and little brother Raziel. The Youngloves are an established hunting family line but have a reputation for their eccentric beliefs. They're sort of the backwards cousins everyone is embarrassed by at the family reunion. Any Hunter who has been in the game a few years has heard at least one rumor or strange story involving a Younglove. Another way to put it - they're the hillbilly gypsy branch of the American hunter culture.
An example of this is their view on redheads - particularly gingers. They believe a demon's true corporeal form is that of a ginger and so any ginger is immediately suspect as either a demon in their true skin or a human who is possessed. They're viewed as unlucky, ill omens and untrustworthy. No one is sure where this belief came from but it has been passed down through the generations for as long as any living Younglove can remember. Conversely, Youngloves have an extremely liberal view of witches. They believe some creatures' true origins were that they were human witches who suffered from a curse, a misfired spell, any number of things. But they also believe a witch is as likely to be good as evil.
When their parents divorced, Dallas was 13 and Raziel was 8. The kids were split between them, presumably because Dallas was deeply invested in hunting while Raziel was still young enough to seem alterable to his mother. They were extremely close - they were the only kids they saw for more than a few days at a time. With the danger living on the road with their parents brought and Raziel's natural pacifist nature, Dallas developed a deeply rooted need to protect him. But when it became clear their parents were splitting them up, Dallas promised Raziel she would find him and take him back once their father no longer needed her help.
At 22, Dallas' father decides to retire to a dingy cabin on the Rhode Island shores. She takes his mint green Cadillac and hits the road to make good on her promise to her kid brother. Unsurprisingly, her reunion with Raziel isn't what she'd been fantasizing it'd be.
Despite his reservations, Dallas manages to convince him to hunt with her for at least two years. They have been on the road together for three months at the point where they join End of the Road.
Alias: Barnaby
How did you find us?: An ad on a site listing rp communities.
Experience: Loads. Literally decades at this point. Wow that's disturbing to write. And I have zero ProBoards experience!
Other Characters: I also applied with Murphy MacManus and will be applying as Raziel Zywicki. That's all I plan to bring.
RP Sample:
The protocol for what to wear to sleep in the same bed with the adult sibling you hadn't seen since you were pre-pubescent isn't one Raziel knows. So Raziel goes to bed in sweatpants and boxers and a t shirt and a sweatshirt. Dallas, on the other hand, wears her bevy of necklaces, a black tank top and her pink crocodile skin underwear. Raziel dove in first while she was in the bathroom, had the covers up to his chin when a black bra suddenly went flying out of the bathroom and hit the TV.
But he turns onto his side, keeps his back to her and his eyes closed until the lights go out. The bed rocks with her weight, jostles him in a foreign familiarity like sitting on a swing might. A forgotten memory for something that was never new but would never be beautiful the way it used to be. Just a strange little twist of ache in their chests for a loss they didn't feel. In the dark Dallas turns her head to look at the slight rise and fall of her brother's shoulders. When she last saw him she could fit all of him in her lap, lay him on her chest and belly when he'd have nightmares.
She reaches out and wiggles her middle finger into the center of the little ponytail at his neck. He jolts a little, bumps her shin with a bare foot. "More comfortable this way," she mumbles as she tugs the hair band out. Across the end of her pointer finger she stretches it, pulls it back to hook around her thumb and says, "Watch," and as he "hmm?"s, she shoots it through the air.
"Did you see that? It was perfect."
"No."
Dallas rolls onto her belly, tucks her arms tight up under her ribs. Her little brother hunkers down away from her, is laying right up against the edge of the bed. "Hey," she reaches out impulsively, rubs her hand through his hair like one would pet a big dog. "I thought you'd of outgrown this by now."
"Stop that," he pushes at her hand so she does it harder before she grabs his wrist and yanks, flops him onto his back. She rides the rock of the bed up over him, his sharp ribs digging into her side as she holds his arms down on the bed. She whistles low as he blinks up at her.
"You are so pale. I bet your butt is crazy white."
"Please don't think about my butt."
"Why not?"
"Because that's really weird."
"I used to wipe your butt, you know."
"Please stop talking about my butt."
"It's good we're going south. You need some sun."
"What are you doing?"
"Looking at you. Shit, can't I just look at you? I knew you'd be grown up but not this grown up. I thought we had more time. Damn," she lets go of his left wrist to lean her cheek in her palm as she looked over his face. "I remember how round your little face was. It used to fit in my hand."
Raziel lets out a heavy breath before he turns away to look at the dull glow of the blinds. "People change. Especially after nine years. I'm here. I'm giving you two years. Leave me alone so I can sleep."
Dallas runs her knuckles down the side of his cheek but he cuts her short, grabs her wrist and lifts it away from him. When she spreads her fingers to show her open palm he lets her go and the bed ripples with her weight as she falls back onto it.
Side by side, the Younglove kids stare at the ceiling in the milky blue dark of the motel night. Dallas shoves her hands under her pillow and Raziel lays his tentative across his stomach under the sheets. Around three in the morning their eyes close and they slip off into some kind of sleep.
I (Dallas Younglove) have read the site rules and understand them. The code word for the rules is: (Batman)
[/div][/div]
Application Created By Hell Hound
[/div]