pies-database

[pies-database]

COLOSSUS [He/it]

Name(s): Colin Tanner

PHALANX code: TRPE - 010 - 002

Nickname(s): Colin

Likes: Sunny days; long, warm hugs; dry/ dark humour; thrill; tight spaces; hot/sour challenges; Mexican food; strong perfumes; LUSH stores; entertaining

Dislikes: London; the public; 8am on the tube; 11pm on the tube; people talking to him unprompted; being still for too long; public bathrooms; monotone music

Personality: As of now, someone with the edge of just realising that you don't need to keep your repressed parts of your personality hidden. A predator who has just figured out that he has prey. Has an arrogance and need to control to him, will belittle you to make sure you know things are going his way. However, towards smaller kids takes on a much lighter mantle, willing to explain certain things calmly and telling grand stories he'd heard himself.

Abilities: Gorgon-esque. A single look into his eyes turns your exterior to stone very quickly, but not immediately. If you look away quick enough, you may get away with just losing an arm or leg. Within 10 seconds, only your insides are meat.

Abnormal physical features: His own skin is layered with concrete, as though he was laid on his back while someone poured liquid concrete over him. In areas of movement, where wrinkles would usually form, it's skin is cracked and ripped to the point of bleeding. Joints that regularly move [neck, shoulders, knees, etc] are usually heavily bandaged. His hair is mostly natural, though some strands at the front seem to be encased in the same substance, giving the effect of greying. Some of the stone near cracks is stained with blood.

Backstory: He was born into a cult. A cult that his own father started. It was a rather hedonistic cult, and a rather small one at that. It was a belief that the human species was blessed with the ability for sensation, that the purpose of our existence was to physically feel and be felt. As such, the worst possible fate for a person would be to be a statue in any way; blind, unfeeling, unmoving.

As is the natural progression, the punishment for any descendants of the cult was to be bound and locked in a room with the lights switched off. And Colin Tanner spent a lot of time in that dull, scentless room.

You see, Colin was a child drawn to the experience of connection, of learning. He wanted to leave and get educated at a College. Wanted to learn more about science and art than his own family had answers to. And he wasn't very good at suppressing it like his own brother was.

His brother was just a bit older, by 3 years. He understood he had no chance of achieving his dreams, as his father and mother made sure he was the poster child for their own beliefs, teaching him the ways of keeping everything in line. But he did understand, and couldn't bring himself to use the techniques on someone he actually saw as human, so he instead helped Colin escape when the younger turned 20.

He got out, in exchange for not telling any authorities what had happened. He even got a shitty apartment in Staines, everything else was up to him.

And he lived like this just fine, got a job as a barista, started dating someone who seemed as stuck as he used to be, started looking into ways to help his random bouts of eyestrain. But 2 years later, his dad found out his new address.

Colin was drugged late at night, dragged to the nearby forest. His father placed him on his back while he was paralysed. His father took a knife across his eyes, making sure he was the last face he would ever see. He was then drowned in a bucket of concrete. And left to rot.

Except he didn't. In 2002, Colin woke up with only that last moment trapped in his head. The last image he ever saw, suddenly the only thing he could remember seeing. He let it fester as he came to terms with the fact movement hurt, and living hurt, and everything tired him out so much. It took him months to learn the layout of the forest again, practising and practising until he could (and did) guide out any that got lost. It wasn't a safe place to be. He could sense that there were some that weren't lost, but that stayed away from him after the first time a child looked into his eyes, and had to be left as a testament.

But people like him started pouring in; a man who reeked of flame and spat out curses at the world as though trying to dispel smoke from his lungs; an old car racing star who claimed that if he could still easily take the title from any newer star, but had the same groans of pain as Colin every time he moved; A singular body that would switch between the voice of a privileged older lady and a younger cockney lad, with only the stench of loss to share. He became less lonely.

And a young lass came along, and spoke with great sadness in her voice - in a way that was tinged with familiarity - about getting revenge for what was done to him. With the assistance of new friends, the stone remains of his father lie scattered between lakes, and his face kept in a large oak jewellery box dug near where Colossus stakes out.

Current residency: The middle north-east of the island

ASKS: OPEN

[pies-database]

HYPERIA [She/they/it]

Name(s): The Fearless, The Exodus, Adeline

Nickname(s): Perry

Likes: Forgery, psychology, birds, soldering, making stained glass art, Flirtatious behaviour, cheekiness, yellows, greens, mellow shades of colours, independence, exploring new tastes and places, learning, chutney, instrumentals, orchestras, poetry

Dislikes: being restricted, being uncertain, sea urchins, jelly fish, the quiet, baths, "Quiet days", beach holidays, being unactive, not having a reading list, maximalism, anything too minimalist.

Personality: An active thrill seeker, Adeline was known that she would be something truly confident from a young age. She goes to clubs, woos people (of all genders) as much as they woo her. She almost handles flirting like a sport, not anything genuine but an art she has down to a science.

However, when she finds an anchor, she unwittingly lets it completely stump her. She has bad days and months were she may become reliant on an ideal and however it presents itself. If this is challenged, she will dig her feet. She has to come to terms on her own, which she usually does.

She doesn't mind pain and has a relatively high pain tolerance, but the sight of a wound can make her queasy. This just makes her very fidgety, but she can still deal with first aid, its just a lot less enthusiastic.

Abilities: Can sense and alter the nature of a person's existence and experience. As she hasn't been around for long, she isn't very accurate and finds it rather difficult, but she is learning. This usually represents itself as spheres of various kinds, colours and vibrancies. Only she can see those Shrimp Colours that make it all come together.

Also higher resistance to heat and bacteria.

Abnormal physical features: Abnormally pale skin, her eyes and hair look like gold, she has small wings in place of ears.

Backstory: She was always the rambunctious sort, always going out of her way to find a cheap thrill. As a teen this presented as always chasing the high of the start of a relationship of any sort. The feeling of so many new possibilities and potential connections. But she never felt comfortable enough to settle with a friend group or a partner.

As she got older, finished college, started applying to jobs, as her world changed in massive ways every few months, she allowed herself to hold onto this "new" partner she'd had for a year. He kept her anchored, he would always let her know when a job opportunity was too far, or if a house was not roomy enough for when they would have kids, or that it was ridiculous to completely rule out having kids because "feelings change" and he wanted a bloodline.

He kept her anchored, but her sister would always be there to be the wind in her sails. And, funnily enough, she would keep dropping the weirdest questions about her partner. Why was that trip to that dormant volcano refused? Well, because I'm stupid, didn't realise how dangerous it was. Silly mistake, right?

And her sister kept prodding, until she dragged Adeline out by her ankles to go on a night out with the sister's friends. And they proper shat on her boyfriend. It was only then Adeline actually listened, and realised she should keep an eye out for his behaviours. She started documenting "Weird" stuff he'd say and posting it anonymously to online forums. Everyone was just telling her to break up with him.

So after her longest relationship of 4 years, she decided to go through. Her sister would wait outside in her car, willing to let Adeline stay in her house in Staines until she could get on her feet again. The breakup went relatively well, and Adeline walked out with the weirdest feeling of freedom mixed with directionless floating.

She walked out of the house, away from all her history and forging equipment, and felt lighter for the first time in years. she went to the car, and let herself move on.

But, that's when she started seeing the lights.

Funnily enough, ending a relationship, loveless or not, that had been going on for almost a decade tended to cause symptoms such as depression. She laid on her sister's couch for hours, eating what was laid in front of her and then napping. But those lights.

They were little spheric things, with no core. Like a very, very bright firefly. And they had a kind of lure to them, one that called for her to stand up and follow.

And one day, after staring at them for a few months, she decided to follow. She only had her PJs on, but couldn't be bothered to change. It wasn't a particularly hot or chilly night, so she would be fine in what she was wearing with some flats thrown on her feet.

She followed it onto the weird island that had heaps of local legends stirring within, she had seen the rumours that the serial murderers that stirred the small community actually lived there, but the police refused to go in. There had been limited reports of death from within that area, so she did just cross the bridge.

She didn't actually meet anyone when she went in, the plant led her to a small pond and submerged itself. And once more, bracing against the cold, she followed.

When she eventually made contact, she felt warm, like molten lava nestled into her very bones. It wasn't painful; it felt right.

And she came out different. Then, and only then, did she run into two strangers, lingering behind a warehouse. They had been watching (well, one was watching and relaying it to the other guy, who was blind) the entire time, and were just as confused. However, they did have some answers, starting with the fact she had probably just died. And she would probably have to withdraw from society now.

And Adeline, thinking these two people clearly had some sort of idea of what happened, quickly ran home with newfound energy, left a note for her sister, changed clothes, and planned her new name, her new identity.

Enter stage left, Hyperia.

Current residency: near Sawyer's warehouse.

ASKS: OPEN.

[pies-database]

RITA [She/They]

Name(s): Rita [stage names: Carmilla, Queen Of Speed]

PHALANX code: ALTN-xxx-005

Nickname(s): Rocket

Likes: Mechanical engineering, fashion, panto, performances, comedy, political arts, flame patterns, Amaryllis, McLarens, Ford

Dislikes: Tesla (the car), BMW, alcohol spirits, civil engineering, crochet, folk music

Personality: Incredibly caring. Like a light in the dark, she'll banter with you as she guides you out of the forest which might end in a night out at the pub seeing how many beers you can down. Good listener, and even better talker. Every so often, she's a little cryptic, but not in a malevolent way. Also incredibly competitive, and does not take loss well. She won't fight other competitors on it, however, she just sulks.

Abilities: Ya classic superspeed and rather poor Wizardry [using a curse/commendation to do similar things to a witch but on a much lesser scale]

Abnormal physical features: next to none. Their eyes shift colour between a deep red and purple, and their ears are slightly pointed.

Backstory:

Rita was 20 years old when she realised she was trans. It wasn't anything grandiose, but a small realisation culminating in a gentle "ooh".

It wasn't the traditional "trans story" of a kid knowing all along they were a different gender and acting that way for a long time. No, Rita had always been into cars and motors and elbow grease. In fact, she had the realisation while working on someone's car after the suspension cord had snapped.

Not too long afterwards, they started on T, experimenting with makeup. And they started to look into fashion and design. It was gorgeous. From Dame's dresses in pantos to long elegant gowns in the met gala. Designer and thrift and experimental. She decided she wanted to try, have a hand.

After 3 years, and raising enough money to buy more dresses, and getting a prescription for oestrogen, they had a fresh new idea.

Drag. But, they had no previous experience with performance. They did have experience with cars.

Rita, at 24 years old, set out with a goal to create the nation's first queer race club, with its own small course. She saw her goal come to fruition at 30 years old.

It's not often she competes, but she has a go on the track sometimes. In a dress she designed herself to be relatively compact yet impressive without overheating in the car.

It does well, surprisingly. In fact, once a year, Rita hosts a drag drag race, with each outfit having safety regulations and wigs as good as disallowed.

A few years into this, in 2005, she's having a go in her newest outfit. She sees a figure on the treeline, and she can't quite explain the sense that hit her at the sight of that woman, except for acute dizziness. As though she were overheating rapidly. It caused her to slam on the breaks, and to flip.

The impact with the windshield is what killed her, to be succinct. And she walked away with minimal injuries.

She got to know the woman from the treeline, she was rather sweet actually. She thinks if they had more time, she may have called it love. The woman was the one who helped her through the loneliness of being dropped into an otherwise rather tense dynamic. But it only lasted 4 years.

And by the time a young girl came around, screaming, in 2010, she just had to lend a hand. It was just something Corkscrew would do.

Current residency: The Dark Forest: The State Homes' Crypt.

ASKS: OPEN.

Link: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1664831/complete?cd=yTiW1ned0d#google_vignette

[pies-database]

WICKERMAN [He/Him]

Name(s): Warren, SW8

PHALANX code: ALTN-008-018

Nickname(s): Dickhead, Oi, Hello?

Likes: ???????????????

Dislikes: The Lord's Wrath

Personality: Abrasive, closed off, unsociable. Extremely quiet. Will barely even glance at you.

Abilities: Matter manipulation, usually done so in the form of combustion. Basically, he can give and take energy from particles. However, he does also have the (subconscious) ability to change his appearance based on his self worth.

Abnormal physical features: His skin, while just brown at a glance, peels and chips like wood with similar (though very slight) patterns. One eye is missing. Most of the time, his skin is very taut against his skeletal structure and muscles.

His left hand is missing, instead his skin has grown around a branch which has since been chiselled into a staff.

All of his hair is pretty sparse. He looks like a corpse after several months of decay in this regard.

Backstory: In 2014, Nemesis was fucking around with Subterra. He wanted to show them how he accidentally started a weird cult thing. And in doing so, they accidentally created a second weird cult thing.

Welcome, the Beornen. Their family had a history of honouring the forest, but apparently seeing two beastly beings proclaiming the family's success in the endtimes was enough to push that honour into literal worship. Ah well. I'm sure this will have no impact.

All of a sudden, Warren (15 at the time) gets a shit load of pressure put on him as the heir of the family. As the next of kin to the forest's blessing. Through the years he had to balance not pissing off his now fanatical family and trying to stay far enough away from the nonsense to actually have some friends.

There were many rules and regulations his family built up from that brief meeting, but one of the most prominent rules was to not try and find the 'Gods' lurking in the forest.

One day, on 20th March 2018, his 'mates' dare him to go into said forest. They didn't know that it was against his family's rules. Technically, due to local legends, it was everybody's rules.

It was stormy. He went in, and lightning struck. It can be boiled down to rotten, luck, essentially, that lightning struck such a tall tree, that it came crashing down onto him. And he realised that. And he realised that he had just broken his family's core rule.

He devoted the rest of his God-given life making up for all of his blasphemy. He would enact the ritual, in small parts, every day. Every time hearing in his own head that it clearly wasn't enough. He would have to be punished for it. His clothes turned to dust, his skin turned to a stretched leather. All in accordance with his God.

His 'God' stands confused, concerned, over his shoulder wondering why the hell the new guy refuses to speak to anyone beyond a few incantations.

Current residency: WANDERING.

ASKS: OPEN?

[pies-database]

SMILER [They/it]

Name(s): Sylvester, SW7

PHALANX code: ALTN - 007 - 013

Nickname(s): Syl

Likes: Puns, dogs, lasagne, cough sweets, apples, calpol, EDM music, Drum N Bass music, brutalism, warehouse aesthetics, urban exploring, biochem, cilantro, marmalade

Dislikes triggers: Medical settings, touching their face/scars uninvited, boredom, being handled in any form.

Personality: In a completely complex situation where it is constantly trapped between being a complete Smiling Advocate and their own brain chemistry trying to reject the treatment due to inconsistencies.

They come across as very fidgety and unable to sit still and generally chaotic. They constantly are moving their hands and face and can sometimes seem like they're either not listening or just plain bored. That may not be the case, it just needs the stimulation.

They have a very strong personality, and will not be told what to do (if you are not close, at least). If they think it can do better than you, it will make that very clear, and can be downright cruel and insulting at times without realising.

When under duress is incredibly unstable and its a 60/40 about whether they'll fight or flee respectively. If they choose to fight you are not making it out with either your mind or body intact. They don't like to kill, but when under duress their body is quite literally fighting itself to the point where a splinter can make its system think its dying.

Abilities:

-Mind control, in the way that they can make people more pliable to commands by forcing their minds to release copious amounts of dopamine upon responding positively to their instructions. They can increase the amount released, but its a very fragile thing and can completely break people's mind when they're not careful. They can quite literally make it so they can't remember to breathe without it instructing them to.

-minor mind reading, moreso in the way they can just kind of sense certain emotions and glimpse some memories. The information just kind of imposes itself on Smiler and it's like they always knew it.

-increased resistance to drugs. Any and all drugs. Including medicine and alcohol.

Abnormal physical features:

-Larger top canines that constantly hang out their mouth, even in a more adapted form. They are straight and slightly hooked, good for stabbing and not leaving a clean wound [think like the blade of a fishhook.

-eyes are a bright yellow with a spiral pupil that starts at the centre of the iris and ends on the outside of the iris.

-Hair looks to be dyed yellow on top. That is not Dye.

-White freckles. Thats the point.

-Glasgow scars. Except they're not scars. Sometimes theyre scars, but only on good weeks. Most of the time theyre still open wounds.

-Pointed ears.

-claw-like fingernails. Ideal for cutting, forever stained a little red.

Backstory: PLEASE CHECK TWS/CWS IN TAGS

Its 2011, and kids have started going missing. Well, the posters don't exactly say "kids" but, they're teenagers. And homeless people, too, but people don't necessarily talk about that one at all. Not frequent enough for national outcry, but enough for a curfew to be announced. Its 2010, and Sylvester is 15, and a downright menace to anyone who knows him that's not in his little group.

Sylvester, of course, is above just going missing like that. His mum cares way too much, its embarrassing really, but there's no way someone has it out for him that much that they'd greatly upset his charity-running, gold star mum. And he seems to be proved right, when there isn't another abduction for 6 months.

The missing posters slowly get replaced for advertising to this behavioural summer camp thing, and the incidents don't go forgotten, but they get buried. He goes on with his gang, picking fights where they can, and getting reactions where they can't.

Sylvester is 16 years old when he comes home to find his mum stood ashamed to the side, with two smartly-dressed men in his living room to tell him they were taking him to a place where he could be better. Just one summer away, yes? That's all they'll need.

They let him pack a suitcase. And, Syl thinks, these 'summer camps' never do much. Colour in this sheet, tell me how you feel, now fuck off back to your cabin.

They drive for an hour or so, before they come to this small village, and they drive into the hills.

Its not a camp. Its some kind of warehouse, and it's not just kids here. There are people in white coats stood next to two middle aged women, dressed in what would seem to be every day clothes. Clothes you'd go take the bin out in. The women just stare at each other. Smiling.

"Where am I?" And they don't answer.

"We're here to make you better." Is what they say instead.

They take his suitcase, drag him to a room at the very back and very top of the facility. Its dank, It has a bed. It has a bathroom. It does not have a bath. It does not have a single surface. It does have a clock.

The next day they drag him down to a doctor's room for an hour, where a guy in a white coat performs a checkup.

The next day, they take him down to another room. They leave shortly after, completely alone. There are two vents. The room slowly gets stuffier, it gets harder to breathe. The lights flash. They can't see, he can't breathe. They get back 1 hour and 30 minutes after he left. He can't remember much of it.

The next day, they take him down to perform some tests. They tell him to do some relatively simple activities. They don't know why, but they do it almost immediately. but then the people start complaining, "No, you haven't actually organised those books have you?" They had. "Do it again." Well, now he doesn't bloody want to, thank you very much, he already did as you asked.

They get back to the room exhausted, with a faint tinge of confusion. They had been gone for 3 hours and 47 minutes.

This happens on a cycle. The calendar in the doctor's office gets crossed off every day, they are gone for 4 weeks before something happens.

A new doctor comes in. They announce their name as Doctor Kelman. He is here to help with treatment, you see, they weren't responding as hoped, so they wanted to try some old tactics, see if they worked better than new ones.

He pinned Syl down with ropes. He took the scalpel off the surgery table. He scored two lines down Syl's face.

Looking in the mirror, 6 hours 2 minutes and 30 seconds after they had left, they recognised what they were trying to do. A smile constantly stapled to their face. They poked the tear tracks staining their cheeks, felt the flush of blood from under their skin. Good.

They wrote in their own blood under the bed. They can't remember what they wrote.

They continued the cycle. The treatments were harsher, the gas turned to a syringe, their mouth forced open with some horrible metal contraption until their muscles ached. They found, after a while, it didn't care much about all that.

What really irked it, was the trials. The instructions felt like they kept getting vaguer, and they would get more and more upset whenever they'd "tidy this space" or "Make a shopping list for cake" wrong.

At the end of the day, theyd come back, and write on the wall again, always in its own blood. They can't remember what they wrote. It would always get rubbed off.

Things continued, but this could barely be described as a cycle, it would be more apt to say a spiral.

30 weeks after their first meeting with Kelman, they sat and scratched out in their wall the same message they had written in blood all previous times.

2 weeks after that, the Ministry found out. And Sylvester met The Maitron.

It can't remember what happened in that room, with Maitron. But it returned to its room 6 days later.

It scratched the message out in the wall again.

It spent 12 days with the maitron.

On the 13th, things changed once more. Before Maitron came into the room, Syl was starving. Starving, pumped full of drugs, barely aware of their own name. Maybe it wasn't theirs anymore anyway.

They started scratching at the rope, and it started snapping. And when Maitron came back in, to see all the ropes hanging loosely around its body, to see what was left of Sylvester stood tall, smiling manically, she must have realised that would be the very last thing she would see.

That warehouse was discovered a week later, after an anonymous tip. 14 bodies were discovered, some that seemingly went missing up to two years ago. Most of the bodies gored past recognition. It was deemed an animal attack due to the claw and bite marks. All of them in white lab coats.

You think that's it? No, Syl tries to run. And they run through the hills, as fast as possible. Into the forest. They hang out there a little while, finding an old abandoned pub to set up in. It went 2 weeks before being found. Smiler, at 17 years old, was first touched without bad intentions for the first time in almost a year.

Oblivion was the one to find it, actually. And when Smiler got tired of stealing markets from the markets, He was who they turned to to start a "fun new project" .

Said fun new project took 5 years to come to fruition, showing the long deceased people of the old Ministry Of Joy how mass brainwashing Should Be Done, jackasses. Smiler acting as the main brains behind the operation, trying to form a new drug that could be taken as a liquid or inhaled. And it worked really well on the neighbouring village! For less than 5 months before someone broke through enough to start a revolt, and send a letter to the government to make the Phalanx officially recognised and funded. Which. Unfortunately. Passed.

Back into the Labrotories Smiler goes!

Current residency: an abandoned pub in X-SECTOR

ASKS: OPEN

[pies-database]

DATABASE CONTENTS

ALTON TOWERS:

SW - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7- 8

Rita

THORPE PARK:

Hyperia

[pies-database]

TH13TEEN [She/her]

Name(s): 13, Dorothy, SW6

PHALANX code: ALTN-006-010

Nickname(s): Thea

Likes: Agriculture, Folklore, parapsychology, Floral tastes and smells, leatherbound books, corvids, folk music, the sounds of a forest, regional culture regarding the deceased, indie music.

Dislikes: Makeup, Attention, technology, spices, authority, brutalism, techno music, complete isolation, loud noises, when people forget stuff, repeating herself.

Personality: It may be easy to think she's a very nature loving girly pop princess. Alas. No, she is not a vegan, she loves animals but understand the whole "circle of life" schtik. She has spent most of her life in the woods, and it comes across. She lived long enough in civilisation to now have faint ideas of what she likes, and she will likely remain that way for what she thinks will be the rest of her life.

However, she is still rather young at mind. If you treat her with respect and kindness and don't push yourself onto her territory, she will get attached and your punishment will turn from "becoming a tree" to being slowly infected by different plants.

She is easily spooked, and unfortunately for literally everyone, her first instinct is indeed to attack. Or, well, curse.

Abilities: She is this universe's version of a true witch, essentially harnessing a connection they have to a separate plane of existence to make bargains. As witches get more powerful, the bargains get less costly as they learn how to properly barter. They can hex, summon and commend. The term 'witch' is gender neutral, and applies to anyone with this ability.

She also has the passive ability to grow plants and forest wherever she walks. This makes it really inconvenient for a trip to the corner shop.

Abnormal physical features: Most notably several long, sprawling cracks in her skin that are common from witches. The more cracks they have, the more the cracks splinter. They can be transferred to a secondary object [usually made of wood but can be pretty much anything] but 13 doesn't.

Said cracks will open to show a flowing green substance that is slightly luminescent whenever they attempt to use their magic. There are a few cracks below her right eye which spell out "13".

Otherwise just looks like a normal teen, apart from skin colour [a black] which will always represent the track colour irl [unless there's extenuating circumstance.]

Backstory: In late 2009, a 12 year old girl turned to her mummy and pops with concern after cracks started appearing in her skin. a few days later, her pops leads a team of heavily clad men into their living room, and her mummy grabs her hand and drags her out through the back garden, away from the scary men. Into the forest.

She wasn't stupid, she had listened in the assemblies. The forest was scary. It was dangerous; people went in and didn't come out again. But her mummy was dragging her there, and she did drag her feet so there really wasn't much she could do. And they kept on going deeper, and deeper, and she could swear she could see someone moving there, she really did - maybe it was one of the people who didn't come back out?

And when mummy stopped after what must've been at least 6000 hours, her feet hurt and mummy was sobbing. She wanted to go home, she didn't know where home was, and mummy wouldn't stop crying.

At some point she realised she had been glowing, and her stomach was rumbling more than it had ever been, and her skin was becoming a pure midnight black and she was alone. She screamed.

A few minute-hours later, and a kind woman emerged from the trees, concern written all over her face. Thea couldn't move. She felt it as her body rocked side to side as she was carried to a small clearing, and then went into somewhere that smelled of old and dust.

A few minute-hours later than that, and she was having grapes and a bottle thrust at her mouth, and she took it hungrily.

She didn't know it at the time, but she remained in that cycle of impossibly hungry to indulging for months, until 10th of March 2010 where her body finally stopped, broken in some impossible-to-fix way.

Eventually, she came to, and after weeping in the 5-months-stranger's arms, finally got acquainted with her situation. She would not be left like that, she simply would not. anyone close would stay.

This was the way of her world for 6 years, until the commotion with The Ministry Of Joy, where she was one again exposed to the horrible heavily-clad people. But this time she had footing, and in the honour of the people lost, she took her chance to strike.

Current residency: The Dark Forest: The State Home's crypt.

ASKS: OPEN

[pies-database]

GALACTICA [They/he/she]

Name(s): Air (2002-2016), Gallagher, SW5

PHALANX code: ALTN-005-002

Nickname(s): Gala

Likes: Engineering, business studies, Astronomy, vanilla ice cream, mint chocolate, white chocolate, a nice breezy day, reading scifi, candles, Ballads

Dislikes: Not having a foothold in a situation, chemistry, jumpsuits, first person shooters, cheap unauthentic tea, heat, any main course without sufficient spice

Personality: Seems uptight at first, but has a soft spot for chaotic personalities. Will act exasperated, but secretly is hiding a cheeky snort. They are very stubborn on their worldview, and likes to think of themself as a lawful force of the forest. Will always try and take the peaceful route and has thusfar been relatively pacifist.

Abilities: Can tear wormholes through space, can sense wormholes. Can also open said wormholes to form portals to different places within this universe and others, though they have trouble with precision. Can also fly.

Abnormal physical features: Their eyes mimic a galaxy, a lovely blue-purple with clouds of pink. stars dotting their skin like freckles. Large feathered wings designed for soaring that have a constantly-shifting design of the universe

Backstory:

When in their middling teenage years, circa 1990, they decided to help their closest friend who had been kicked out of their home for wishing to be called "Oliver" by inviting him into their own home. People started assuming that they were together and -at some point - they stopped correcting them.

They went to higher education together, each worked a nicely paying part time job and they managed to cash in for a small apartment at home. They returned to living there permanently in 1996, and on Gala's first night out, they met someone... new.

Things had grown tiring between them and Oliver, both starting to tear at the boundaries after having lived with each other for so long. Ollie was abusing his prescription drugs and refusing help. Gala spent most of their time at a bar.

This new person.. This "Nemesis" was someone new. Helped bring more of themself to the surface than ever before, literally and figuratively. Eventually Nemesis revealed what they were, and their suspicions about Gala being the same. [Eventually] Finally thrilled to find a new sense of self, they finally broke up with Oliver.

Only for him to die the week after.

Then Nemesis text them, a simple message, "This was a mistake, I'm sorry."

4 years later, alone, they hit a rough patch. They turned to the pills they had recently been prescribed.

A new figure, with gorgeous furling wings, turned up mere hours later, cowering from the members but not running away.

Nemesis, who thought they had been saving them by staying away, made a commitment to never let them down again, and in 2016 her efforts came to fruition.

In 2016, under the threat of a takeover of the Ministry of Joy, they finally found their confidence, and completely rebranded themself.

Current residency: Shared residency of Nemesis' cavern in Forbidden Valley.

ASKS: OPEN.

[pies-database]

OBLIVION [He/they]

Name(s): Oliver, SW4

PHALANX code: ALTN - 004 - 998

Nickname(s): Ollie, Bliv

Likes: Club music, experimental food, cheesy romcoms, lonely nights, quantum physics, business studies, cats, mythology studies (especially anything about apocalypses), a challenging case, law

Dislikes: War history, the study of Medicine, the sound of scratchy metal, walking on gravel, being the centre of attention suddenly, "dull" days, physical work such as engineering.

Personality: They may seem closed off at first, but don't let that fool you, he thrives on a bit of light chaos. He's a sort of Backroad Lawyer where desperate people can pick him up for some of their oddest cases. It's why Smiler IMMEDIATELY seeks them out when they want to start their own business.

Before all this comes to light, though, they do seem very much a shadow on the corner of your vision.

Abilities: Harness darkness itself, and can make it 'consume' people. No one, not even Oblivion himself, knows what happens to people who are consumed. Can cause extreme bouts of paranoia with his presence alone, and can cast his consciousness and voice to different electronics within a certain radius.

Abnormal physical features: Perfectly white eyes, apart for a ring where the edge of the iris should be. This makes them essentially stone-cold blind. Something on his presence will never have a highlight, it is always shadow. This constantly shifts, but is most often his cape.

Backstory:

In 1990, a 15 Oliver comes out to his parents as being Oliver and is promptly kicked out. Luckily enough, they have a friend (and their parents) willing to take them in. Then, he just doesn't move out.

People would oftentimes mistake them for a couple, but that was never entirely the case, they never agreed on a relationship status. One day, they just didn't bother to correct people anymore. And a couple they were.

They went to University together, even. Oliver studying law while their partner studied business from 1993 to 1996. Eventually they both came home, a crumbling mess of the people they once were. Oliver got prescribed antianxiety meds while away, and had become dependent. Their partner, because of this, was constantly out on pub crawls. Things turned sour.

It was the first pub crawl when they got back, that caused an issue. Their partner met someone, and it changed both of their lives. Their partner slowly gained more confidence, spending more and more time away, sometimes spending the night somewhere but never saying where.

In 1998, the shoe dropped. They broke up with him, leaving him with an empty flat filled with furniture for two. They went to pubs to drown their sorrows away.

It was March 14 1998 when it happened, he went to far. Got too drunk, got kicked out. He fell on the way home. But this is a British village we're talking about here, he didn't just fall, he rolled, eventually landing face first in some glass in the road. Blinding him. Pretty much killing him, actually.

Luckily, someone found him in the road and nursed him back to health. Unfortunately, he couldn't be fully saved. However, the person who took him in already knew this, and didn't care, cause they were one of the previous residents of the Stately Home: Black Hole.

Ever since, they were the "oddballs" on the outskirts of the forest, usually taking residence in an abandoned warehouse. They would go out "stargazing" together where Black Hole would explain the astrophysics, and Oblivion would relate it to a tale he heard in a mythology.

This peace was once again disturbed when Black Hole left him, in a much more final way than their previous partner. 8 years later, and they meet someone new. Or rather, they have a brief encounters before the Someone New chases them down and strongarms them into giving legal support with incredibly poor charisma.

Current residency: Ministry Of Joy warehouse in X-SECTOR

ASKS: OPEN

[pies-database]

NEMESIS - ALTON TOWERS [Any Pronouns]

Name(s): Nemesis, SW3

PHALANX code: ALTN-003-994

Nickname: Nemmi

Likes: rock, rocks, fashion, physical activity (swinging/climbing, running, fighting), nature

Dislikes: Smiler, The cold, shorts, tight clothing, sitting still, letting things go, the quiet.

General personality: a bit dickish, but gets along fine with most people as long as you don't provoke them. Yet again, they are quite easy to provoke. Also pretty territorial. Sometimes, when understimulated, can be seen needling for a physical fight in bars and pubs.

Abilities: Faster healing when connected to nature (pure metals, soil, alive plants), also is stronger in the same circumstances. Has good skill with a knife.

Abnormal physical features: Tentacles (3), Sharper teeth, cat-like pupils, fangs (curved). [POST REBORN:] spines (sharp teeth-like structures of dark bone on random intervals on their back and arms.), large bone-like structures that have the appearance of spindly spider legs (They can use these to stand and strike.), metal that has been grown over.

Backstory:

The likes of corkscrew and Thunderlooper had not been around long and tensions were high. People did not like how this relatively new kind of person were seemingly favoured by the lord of the land, essentially becoming his assistants and servants in exchange for good accommodation, unlimited food and dress, and got a seat at his right hand during his lavish annual parties.

Traps were often left around the State Home, in an attempt to catch one of the residents and try and bring them down. However, instead, a new figure was caught in one of the rope traps. Pretty much naked, and clearly of the same nature of the other residents. The Lord of the house managed to snatch them off of the kidnappers, and they were thus dubbed "Nemesis" by the "dad" of the group: RMT. This was also the first time RMT used the "Secret Weapon" for anyone other than his own daughters.

Nemesis was mostly raised around Corckscrew, The Beast, and Thunderlooper. At least, for the 2 years of their residency. In 1996, a mob chased them into the surrounding woods after the death of the Lord. Thunderlooper was not recovered.

The next year, they met 2 people who would hence change their life for good.

Current residence: A small ravine/cave in Forbidden Valley handsomely decorated with their collection from throughout the years.

ASKS: OPEN.

[pies-database]

!! everything is under construction rn but give me a mo and ill have a new pfp and some profiles. This will be the future masterpost for any and all profiles i create !!