If you already have enough charries then you can just ignore this post.

Name: Fenton Brooks

Age: 23

Gender: male 

Appearance: He is average height and skinny. His eyes can look blue or gray depending on the light. His hair is medium brown, shaggy, and messy, and he is always in need of a haircut. He typically wears old jeans and t-shirts.

Personality: He's very intelligent and absent-minded. He is forgetful and always lost in thought. He rarely sets his mind to something because he can never focus on just one thing. He will be very interested in something for a short time and then completely lose interest.  

Habits/mannerisms: He often spaces out during conversations or just doesn't respond when people talk to him because he is so lost thought. His laugh is a quiet chuckle, and when he laughs it usually happens at odd times when no one else is laughing. When he is talking or listening to people he never makes eye contact and instead looks at the ground, the sky, or past them.

Background: He moved to Darbrook County with his parents and older sister and brother when he was five. He was never a normal child and his parents didn't really know what to do with him, so he was ignored most of the time. He hasn't seen his his 29-year-old sister Amber in five years, but he occasionally sees his 25-year-old brother Conor.    

This looks amazing, I love your writing style! I hope it's not too late to join. :)

Name: Silas DiLeo

Age: 34

Gender: M

Appearance: Sturdily built, broad shouldered and square-jawed. Brown skin, ruddy cheeks, liquidy brown eyes and a striking nose. Curly brown hair always getting in his face. Dresses well— usually a button down of some colour, jeans, and loafers.

Personality: Wants to be liked. He tries to be charming and effusive, but non-threatening, and not "too much" either, which is a confusing mix of ideals that usually ends up with him coming off as fake or smarmy.  As mentioned above, he can outwardly come off as insincere or too-faced. His ego is quite easily bruised, and he gets defensive about criticism. He's pretty even-tempered, and is self-conscious about expressing excess emotion. Cares a lot, likes taking care of other people. Very anxious. Type 2w3/ISFP-T.

Habits/mannerisms: Running his hands through his hair, drumming his fingers on tables, his thigh, often in the pattern of whatever piece or scale he's learning. (He plays piano, and is quite good.)

Background: When Silas was 12, he and his family (mom, dad, and three younger siblings) moved to Darbrook County. His family was not wealthy, and his parents had to work a lot, leaving him in charge of his siblings most of the time. His parents wanted him to go to college, but he was not good in school and never made it there. He has lots of friends, but has trouble commiting to jobs + relationships and worries he is wasting his life. Bounces around between things. Has a little bit of a gambling problem.

Perhaps I should give you a background on Darbrook County. There is not much to say, really, but I feel it might help in understanding how this handful of people came to know each other. 

In the early 1920's, Darbrook was a medium sized city, with a growing popularity. Many young people would flock to the clean streets with their fancy pearls and lazy mustaches. In short, it was party central. There were few who disapproved of the quick growth, but thats what happens to small undeveloped towns. Then... something happened. Unexplainable, unexplicable, unearthly. You get the point. It started out as a misty night, not unusual to Darbrook, then Jaxson City. Young people were scattered on the streets like pepper. No one noticed the soft shake in the ground, until a strange staleness slipped into the air. One girl described it as a tight chill, but I know it was more than that. The peppered young people began to look around them confusedly, when a giant winged creature ripped through the stale air. It seemed to meteriallize from the night. Young people scattered, however there were a few young adults who were left behind, facing the strange being. There was a warped crash, then dry silence. No one knew what happened to these young people, and were illegible from any records of Darbrook.  

~~ The Present ~~

"Gosh, where are they?" 

A young tall man with black spectacles speratically paced upon the large square rug that accented the grand wood walls. He checked his half broken watch, and peered out of the imposing glass window. 

"Where are they?"

~~~ 

I know this was pretty short and confusing but hang in with me! All your charries look great and I will hopefully post again soon. Also please forgive any bad spellings or grammer. I dont have the chance to read it over again, so yall have the raw copy!

Am I late? I hope not. I'll just kind of sneak this in if it is allowed 

Name: Chase Lark Stephans (Goes by Lark)

Age (Must be over 21):25

Gender: Male 

Appearance: He has faded red hair that is brown at the roots but his hair is not dyed. his hair is also messy and never really cleaned up unless he is dressing up formally. He is about 5'8" and has a six pack. He has grey eyes that reflect the colors around him. He has a sharp pointed nose He has light skin with a couple freckles. Like four or five. He typically wears either a black leather jacket and black jeans a white shirt under the jacket and wears black sneakers or black combat boots or he wears a variety of hoodies with jeans a beanie and black sneakers. Or he is formal. Or he wears a black t-shirt and jeans.  

Personality: He has a lot on his mind and shares it. He doesn't really care what other pople think. He has a deep voice  and is very intimidating to others. If you get to know him he is playfull and pranksterish but he is very protective. You now something is wrong with him when he gets quiet or insecure. He is the leader type but never ends up one. There are no people currently who he shows his real emotions to. He is very very sarcastic. If someone chlllenges his thoughts he will argue and argue with them until he knows that he has proved them wrong. He sticks to an idea of his unless he is proven wrong. He will be mad at the person who proved him wrong. He doesn't want to cut people out of his life but he just does it.  He is sensitive about his family. 

Habits/mannerisms: he is left handed. He always looks people in the eyes when he speaks to them. He runs and works out. He has an Australian accent. He taps his foot alot and pays close attention to everything. DO NOT CALL HIM CHASE UNLESS YOU WANT TO DIE!

Background (ie. who their family or where they lived previously before Darbrook County etc): He was an only child and his family lived in Australia. They always traveled for business. His father and mother owned a huge buisness and they were always away from Lark. He wasn't very rich even though his parents owned a company because the company was failing. His family went into debt so they made Lark get a job in America to pay off their debt. He did and they then decided to kick him out of their home. He then went to Darbrook County.

The world was waking up to a chilly Friday. The sky’s inky blackness turned into purple edged clouds that shadowed the charcoal colored atmosphere. Upon the dry grass gruesomely lay a brown crumpled suit. It moved. The chest heaved, a painful sharp breath, then it returned to barely moving. Apart from the man in the ditch, was a dull white van. It slowed to a stop, and three figures got out. The first exited from the passengers seat, and glanced at the tire marks that were sketched into the gray pavement. He was tall, and unlike our man in the ditch, wore a very expensive freshly pressed suit. He stood like a tree, with a demanding countinance and his brown hair was like pine needles, which contrastrasted with his lightly tanned skin.

“This is stupid, I don’t see how these are important.”

“Don’t be silly, Theodore, these weren’t here yesterday.” 

A petited to Theo. She had a splattering of freckles and slight, almond shaped eyes with long lashes. Another young woman with thick, curly brown hair and rough mocha skin replied.

“You’re sure, Vi? I feel like they’ve always been there.” 

“They weren’t here yesterday!” Theo huffed. “Which means,” Violet softly continued, “they must have swerved trying to avoid something, possibly our guy.” 

Theo glanced around the road with disinterest. Monica quietly muttered to herself as she peered over to the edge of the narrow street. “It goes pretty far on the sides, thankfully the car didn’t go over the edge. I’ve always thought the county needs to...” While Monica continued, a funny group of shadows at the bottom of the hill cought Violet’s eye. 

"Oh my word, is that? Monica, look! Is that a person?"

"Theo, get Fenton out of the car, we need some help!"

~~~

The man in the crumpled suit woke in a dimly lit room. It was warm, with a dusty atmophere. The man felt himself lying on a soft object. His chest was heavy, and as he regained conciousness, his neck and shoulders began to ache. Voices cut through the dust. 

"Are you sure we shouldnt bring him to the hospital?"

"We cant- he might have seen It, we cant take any risks."

"This is absurd, he might die if we dont do something!" 

"Be quiet, he's coming around!"

He woke with a grimmace. "Where am I?"

A new voice cut past the thick, woody air. It's tone was soft and cold, yet fimiliar.

"Is that-?" The man replied. 

"Yes, its Ashton HeWitt."

~~~~~~

Next installation hopefully coming soon. 

OH MY LIGHTBULB! This is amazing~! I love it!

Wow! This is really cool!