Racer's Profile Skeletons
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[b]Appearance:[/b] (Real people picture)
[b](Username)[/b]
[b]Car: [/b] (picture of your car) (Max 1 car for starter charries as story progrosses you can get more and no superman cars)
[b]Name:[/b] (Type Name and last name Here)
[b]Gender:[/b] (Female or Male)
[b]Age:[/b] (18-28 )
[b]Orientation:[/b] (Straight, Bisexual, Homosexual, Transsexual, etc.)
[b]My Story:[/b] (Your Character's Bio)
[b]My Personality:[/b] (Your Character's Personality)
[b]Extra:[/b]
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Accepted Racer Profiles
Appearance: 
(Username) TexicanCookie
Car: My newest Love.....And...This Ole Piece of Junk I still want to keep if only for the memories...
Name: Heidi Carrey
Gender: Female
Age: 23
Orientation: Why Should you care?
My Story:
I was born in April, an only daughter to a not so wealthy family, in a little-known town in the outskirts of San Antonio. To my parents both I was like a raindrop in a time of drought, they had just married a young couple in exile from both their families...but I never cared to ask about that...I was "a beautiful grey eyed little brunette gift that was put on this earth to brighten the day" Or so Papa would say.
I was never much for trouble, I was a family girl...Dedicated to my school and helping Mama with the house chores, So She and Papa could provide...Heck...I didn't even care to get in trouble with boys or anything, I was centered on one thing and one thing only; to find a way out of this place...To better myself, and the only way I knew how to do it was to dedicate every inch of myself to my school..and to me. It might sound silly to you but it wasn't to me. I was tired of the monotony. Every day that I saw my Mother come home, her beauty wasted away to the provision of a family, her dreams slaughtered to become nothing but a bent up old housewife...I despised that fate, and I knew I had to do something, anything to change it from being my Fate....
Around this same time, my indifference for boys had won me the name at school of Ice Queen....They all said I was too vain, or that I thought that because I had the looks, They weren't worthy of me. Granted, I wasn't easily impressed by those mindless jocks and popular boys...To me, only Me mattered...Of course there was that one exception...Austin, but that's something I'd rather not bring up, its still a sore spot....Let's move the subject to cars....I never had an interest for cars. My first car was the crappy ole' eclipse that a neighbor of ours was selling. How did I get it? Well I made a little hole in my schedule, told my parents I was trying out for Tennis practice (As if I was actually interested in doing that) when in fact I was working a part-time and slowly saving money to buy the crappy ole' piece of junk. My one best friend, Brian saw my enthusiasm for it and helped me save money up, because he had a deep passion for cars, and well once we bought the car, he ended up showing me some basic stuff about it, but I really never got any of it, more so, he was the one that introduced me to the nightlife i didn't dare dream this crappy town had, and I was enticed. Brian helped me fall in love with my car, and the speed...but more importantly to me, it was the money. The Money that came after each and every race, Money that was wasted on my family, or on my car. Thanks to Brian, my best friend, I had the money, I had the car, and I also had Austin....and well this is probably where the story should end right? Happily ever after, Bright Eyes succeeds, she has her Austin, her family and a very good friend, Brian....No It didn't work that way.
High School ended, and I found myself aware that college can't pay itself, more importantly if I continued on like this...with that steady relationship with my beloved Austin, I would end up like my Mama...A wasted Housewife, dedicated completely to nothing but her household...Forgive me Mama, but that was something I didn't want in my future...At least not at the moment, i wanted to be someone, Do something important...Live my Life by each and every moment, and So I made the most important and difficult decision of my life: To break away with everything I knew and loved and define my independence as a free and able woman, even if it meant breaking my Love's heart, and the depression of my Parents...
So I moved here to Olivette, because I heard that opportunities come in every corner. I found a job as a half time waitress at a diner, while I took classes. One night while driving home from the diner, I found myself involved in a race with some sleaze in a creamy white Porsche. Well to show him not to mess with pretty gals, I beat his a** in a race, and apparently that caught the attention of some higher ups, because soon enough I was racing again One, two, three times a week until I received a golden horse. And ever since, My life took another 360 turn.
I've somehow ended wedging myself into the arms of a very important SS mod, Kommandat, I don't even know how it happened, one thing lead to the other...There's just something about him that I can't figure out that keeps attracting me like a moth to a light, even though I know that it'll probably get me into deep deep trouble perhaps even cause my death, but I feel like I don't care. I'm running the diner now, and I'm happy. Very happy...I've everything I want right? And I'm living the Jetset life...What else could I ask for?
My Personality: I'm short-tempered, Mouthy, proud independent woman who loves her freedom and hates being controlled. I like to do whatever the hell I want, when I want to, and get things my way. I can be a bit sweet and shy and convincingly complacent if it means I'll get my way with things...I'm a seductive little kitty and I like to please those who please me....Some say I'm just Vain, but I think that there isn't such a thing as Vanity, I'm just confident in myself...Also I'm a bit excitable at times....And consequently very impulsive....So there! Love me or Hate me, I'm sorry to tell you that I'm here for the long run...
Extra:I love pets. And Fashion. Oh...And I collect Hats, I love Hats.....And do you want to know a secret? The only reason I started talking to Kommandat the day he walked into the diner was because I wanted his hat.... SHHH!
Appearance: 
KatieRose
Car: 
Name: Catalina Vega (aka Anabella Ferreira)
Gender: Female
Age: 24
Orientation: Straight
My Story: Well, what is there to really say about me? I grew up in a comfortable middle class home with my mom and step dad and my brother Dante. He's my best friend. We're twins and we really are the same person. We did everything together and didn't fight much. When we did fight, it usually ended with a run to the ER for one of us but it passed with age. He was the one who got me into the SS, although I didn't really race. Maybe once in a while I would but mostly I flagged races and ran drugs for Kommandant. Things were going better than perfect...and then s**t hit the fan. An SS party got raided and some people died, others were arrested...including Dante. It felt like my soul was ripped in two. Yeah, that might be stupid sounding but that's how it feels. What if you lost your arm, huh? Wouldn't you feel like s**t? That's what I thought...
I was going to run and I quit Kommandant's ring. I thought he was going to damn near kill me. How am I still running around town then? Well, I met another SS MOD. His name is William Rousseau and if it weren't for him, I don't know where I'd be. Probably back in Brazil, I'm sure. Anyway, he hired me to be his personal assistant and all I had to do was give my word of loyalty. I changed my appearance and he gave me a new life. Now, I'm known as Anabella Ferreira, a woman fresh from Portugal. William bought me a shiny new car, my very own condo and everything else I needed...and he has my complete loyalty.
My Personality: I used to be very bubbly and "in your face" and I flirted with everyone and slept around when I felt like it... Not anymore, though. I'm afraid to be caught so I stay very quiet, only speaking on rare occasions, at least around others. I'm much more introverted than I ever was before. I'll keep it at that.
Extra: I'm still petrified to get caught, both by Kommandant and by Adam. It's also hard for me not to go visit Dante.
Appearance: 
KatieRose
Name: Halina Nowak
Gender: Female
Age: 20
Orientation: Bisexual
My Story: My story....hm... Not much to say. Mom died so it was just me and dad. He worked for a big computer company. Very smart guy...but not a great dad. The only time we bonded was when he was teaching me about his job and programming... It was all about computers and I began to experiment...and things went from there.
I'm a cracker, or a black hat hacker. Started off white hat...and then found the dark side to be a bit more fun. Kinda goes hand in hand with everything.
As for where I am now, I am living comfortably just outside of Olivette. During the day, I work at a bank. Dangerous? Maybe but my boss is okay so I haven't touched anything yet. I thought about it once...but then I got promoted to be Mr. Wilhelm's secretary. He's the big boss and I don't plan on trying anything now. Why? I got a nice raise. Good living on that money. At night, though, I'm a lady. Yes...one of those ladies. It's fun on the side, even though some guys can be real pricks. Specifically speaking, I'm one of Dante's ladies. I started off working in an escort business but there was something about Dante... He showed me a whole world, not just business. I like to think I'm a little more high class than his other employees, though. I can usually pick my clients and I have a few set men I visit. I'm also available as a dinner date and other such things like that.
My Personality: Intelligent. I'm also quite easy going, especially when it comes to business. That's really all you need to know. Think of the rest as a surprise inside.
Extra: Nada.
Appearance: (i can't find a pic that shows what he looks like well, so I'll have to describe)
He is a tall man standing at 6'0'' tall and is heavily built. His face is covered by a half mask over his mouth and nose, a pair of red goggles over his eyes. A black and red visor cap a top his head with a silver skull and crossed pistons on the peak.
He wears a long black trenchcoat with a silver boards on his shoulders, the sleeves ending in a pair of black leather gloves. Under his coat is a black dress shirt with a bright red tie. Matching black dress pants with a silver buckle on a black belt seperating the two. His pants end in a pair of knee high leather boots, polished to a mirror shine.
(Username) Totenkopf soldat
Car: 
Name: He is called 'Kommandant'
Gender: Male
Age: mid twenties
Orientation: straight
My Story: Not much is known about the Kommandant other than he is ruthless and very kept to himself. He has never been seen without his mask and goggles in public, for people know. He does walk the streets during the day in normal clothing and without his mask on, he doesn't even drive during the day. He appears from no where and got his nickname from his uniform military in appearance. He doesn't say much to anyone...just races...
My Personality: He likes to be by himself, and doesn't hang around too long after a race. He is odd and mysterious and would like to keep it that way.
Extra: Picture is a basic idea of what his car looks like, in the rp his car is Black with red accents with 'Kommandant' written over the driver's door. The engine is a Lincoln Flathead V8 239: (upgrades)
Ford 9-inch 4.11 gears
Triple Stromberg carbs
Aluminum intake and heads
HEI ignition
Flattop pistons
stroked forged rods and crank
4-speed TCI transmission and clutch
Custom grind cam
laker pipe headers
flathead customs blower style supercharger 10 psi
Appearance:
(Username) Totenkopf Soldat
Car:
Name: Wilhelm Von Reuter
Gender: Male
Age: Mid-twenties
Orientation: Straight
My Story: I am the 'Dr. Jekyll' side of the Kommandant. I have the same background as my... 'hostile' counterpart. No I am not a split personality so to say... I am rather a..false image that was created to protect the Kommandant from anything bad that may result from a 'hostile' look on life.
My Personality: I am very well mannered and kind. I don't drink too much, don't do drugs, and always let the lady go first...in short I am a gentleman.
Extra: Remember... I am only one side of the coin...flip me...and I turn into a monster...
Appearance: [X]
FourTailedFiveSpeed
Car:
Name: Ashe 'Carbon' Clark
Gender: Female
Age: 22
Orientation: Straight
My Story: I grew up on the garage floor between a 1969 Mustang Mach I and a 1969 Mustang 'vert still in need of repair. I made my debut into society at 3 months old at my first car show. You could say cars are in my blood and aren't leaving any time soon.
As a kid I grew up helping my father in the garage with what small things a little girl could help with. Hand dad a tool while learning their names, grab some oil from the shelf, move the light so he could see better. Sure, I wasn't doing brake jobs and oil changes at seven, but those were my beginnings. Once those repairs were done I knew it was time for a drive to make sure the repair held. That was always the thrilling part.
This was the way life went until my 12th birthday. Things had been rough in the family and finally snapped. My mother handed me a computer game as a present and said good bye. The house had been filled with tension, arguments, and questions I didn't want to be asked. I can remember standing at the end of the driveway, watching the Mach disappear down the street behind a U-Haul truck. Now two key pieces of my life had gone and life was about to change.
Trying my best to keep together for my father and brother I continued with my love of cars and continued to help work on the 'vert. Another sad day was about to come when my father decided to sell the beloved 'stang to realize his dream of owning a car he could competitively race. Away went the 'vert and home came a body, a suspension, and a whole lot of boxes. A years worth of building went by before a Factory Five Cobra Replica sat in our garage ready to race. My heart and a bit of my blood went into that car, and I hoped it was here to stay.
With the FFR part of the family now I turned to racing myself. With humble beginnings in my beloved ZX2, I quickly took to the track and followed my father up and down the east coast to race. After that it took a long time to save up the money to buy my own FFR car, but I wanted to be different. Instead of building Cobra #2, I decided to go with the Type 65 kit and built a replica Daytona Coupe. That car has lead me to where I am today.
My Personality: I'm pretty calm and all around fun, but when someone hits the right button to piss me off, that button is stuck down for a good while. Pretty average really.
Extra: NA
Appearance: 
(Username) Rikasaginuma
Car: 
Name: Olivia "Ghiacciaio" Petrova
Gender: Female
Age: 26
Orientation: Straight
My Story: My mother was a small town immigrant from Russia and my father well...that is a close kept guarded secret. There is no record of him marrying my mother, nor is he on my birth certificate, but he is an Italian mob boss. They were in a "relationship" if you could call it that for about ten years. But he fathered my half sister and half brother during that time as well. Growing up was a little bit difficult. My mother wouldn't take my father's money, no matter how much he tried to push it onto her. She tried to make money for us any way that she knew how, which meant that there were days that I was left alone to fend for myself. Must be where my hunger for money arose. In order to help keep us afloat, I took odd jobs that were almost always related to cars. I helped out at the mechanic shop and would sometimes pick up taxi jobs which were unknown to my mother. I was never interested in my father's job and neither was Lulu, but Issac took it seriously and found me as a threat. Mother was able to keep me away from my siblings and my father until that cold January day. She was strangled and found floating in Lake Michigan. The police couldn't find who did it, though I knew it was Issac. He loved to get his hands dirty and strangling was just his style. So my mother because a number, which irritates me to no end.
Though my mother kept the syndicate away from me, she couldn't erase it from my blood and her death turned the switch. To get back at Issac, I started erasing the things that he loved. I became a prominent business woman at the age of 23, becoming the CEO of the largest international marketing firm in the country. Once I had enough money, I began to use my money as influence on the street. Issac loved cars as much as I do, so it was natural that I would want to kick his a** on his own turf. I did blow up a few of his cars back in the day, but my signature was unmistakable. Somehow I found the weakness of his cronies, which was drugs and women. Within a year they all became hooked on crystal meth due to my influence and started leaving him for me. My nickname of Ghiacciaio arose from the street with my beginning as a crystal meth. drug trafficer. This caught the attention of my father and he made me a deal. If I gathered a following and made my name in the underground world I could choose to take over the business, or leave and become a free woman.
My Personality: Quite sophisticated and quiet. I can be whatever person is called upon for the situation, or whatever emotion is needed. Really, I am cold, cunning and callous. Manipulating people to my advantage is easy, and I won't hesitate to do it. My racing style is very relax and the chance I will loose to the same person is rare. I am very observant and a quick learner.
Extra: Though I am here to race, it is a front to my plan for this town. Racing covers my drug cartel, and I plan to pump as much crystal meth onto the street that I can. Freedom is so close, I can almost taste it.
Appearance: Check Me Out
FrankPanda
Car: 
Name: William "Jade" Rousseau
Gender: Male
Age: 26
Orientation: That's none of your damn business....
My Story:
Hmmm what would you like to know about the infamous Jade of the SS? You know all those rumors you hear are only that...Legends and Rumors.
What's that? You wanna hear the real story behind me? Okay. Sit. Now.
William Rousseau had his not so humble beginnings in the heart of the one of the wealthiest family in the country. Obviously, like every rich teenager, I went to private school, spent my life not worrying one bit about those below me but studying meticulously to become the cultured man my father was: Camus taught me Absurdism, Dostoevsky Taught me Existentialism, and Voltaire taught me Pessimism. I indulged in these philosophies until I became physically, emotionally and mentally sick, nobody of course, noticed that my meticulous cynic personality combined with my disenchantment and boredom for life turned me into a conciousless son of a b***h...Nothing offered me the fulfillment I needed. Nothing....and Like all rich people...or so the stereotype goes, I grew bored with my goody good life, by the age of Twenty-Three, I had already seen half the world; Vienna, Lyons, Rome, Paris, Belgium, Congo, Mexico, Ontario, Hong Kong...I had done things only a few people dream to do, You name it. I'm a very cultured man, You might say...but I never found Pleasure. Never. My search for it only broadened, because to me life was (and continues being) all about Pleasure.
The fact that I have everything anyone would ever want, and that I didn't need anything from anyone catapulted me into a scene of constant chaos..I did not have a conscious, My mentality was split between reality and the limbo, I indulge in anything that remotely brings me pleasure, women, alcohol, drugs...it wasn't long until something bad happened right?
Well it did, it happened one night of pleasure in the arms of a woman so beautiful...She died. If you were to read her autopsy report it will clearly state Overdose, and that is the plain truth, I had always wondered if someone could die from pleasure...and she just happened to die from a Snow overdose I gave her and the XTC I snuck in her drink without her knowing. Oh it was wonderful sight indeed, the way she kept enjoying herself and then broke off into convulsions, her pretty body writhing in agony and then embracing death little by little as I just sat and watched fascinated...Completely fascinated...Nobody ever found out it was a homicide...just a plain old overdose, the girl had always been a drug addict anyways and this was no surprise to her family...that it happened like that, she wanted money for drugs, I gave her money and drugs, and let her die in pleasure...Of course, we never got married…and her family apologized to me for her actions. They said they didn’t know she was an addict…Oh but I knew…I knew so well…
After that, I became fascinated with death, because I learned that life is like a flame...a very delicate flame that can be extinguished with the right amount of variables. It was the only thing I knew I could not be beat. And thus I was thrown into the arms of philosophy, like a lover adoring every inch of his woman; I became a lover of the variables that control our deaths…
You may be asking yourself how does all this tie in with the SS and cars. Patience is golden, so you might be rewarded.
After my failed attempt, (or lack thereof) of marriage, my father ‘mysteriously’ died there was no need for him any longer…My mother was mad, Not that she cared…her and her affair were only hoping they would get something out of the bank…but it was all mine and this I knew. Soon though, their fires were extinguished, Then came my moment. The moment when I inherited everything my father owned, and like the calculating b*****d I am, it all went into my enterprise of Pleasure, I was already in the business before, but now with my father’s money and my last name’s influence, I charted maps of the unknown. And soon, I was recruited by the SS, at first it was all about my business in the Coke industry, Heroin and XTC soon followed….but one thing that impressed me so deeply about the SS was the cars. I was left dumbfounded by them, by their speed, and their roars, and the rush of adrenaline, it was like a drug all together…and the variable of death always present, always….Fire… I soaked it all up and entrenched myself in my estate for months on end. Studying meticulously like my younger self had done, but this time instead of Voltaire, Ovid, Plato, and Sophocles, was Ford, Chevrolet, Dodge…Any car that crossed my path I would not leave until every detail was mine for the taking….Mad. Obsessed, the SS was about to give up on my business…but I reiterated, coming out of my sudden madness and hermitage renewed and ready to enterprise, I took a long trip to Europe, and came back fixed with a single idea of the single car I wanted…After I acquired what I wanted…I came back to the SS, my money, my influence, my sadistic pleasure in slowly killing and burning, my mad obsession for collecting poisons and cars, all put together with my cynical mental state, turned me into a MOD for the SS. I specialize in the Adrenaline, Fire and venoms of various kinds, I am an avid arsonist inflaming the fires of your desires…a distributor of the venom that injects pleasure into your veins, and just like my car taking off into the distance, I put out the flame I started, and you…You won’t even noticed because you’re so high on me…That’s why those who know me and are still alive call me, Jade.
My Personality: Good Humored, and indulgent on the outside, but highly sadistic and cynical in the inside. I've close to no conscious
Extra:
Snake Eyes N Sissies
Car: 1970 Plymouth Roadrunner.
Name: Monika Annabelle Monovic.
Gender: Female.
Age: Twenty Two.
Orientation: Bisexual.
My Story: It was just another rainy day in Moscow, Russia, on March twentieth, twenty two years ago to the day, Monika was born to her unprepared sixteen year old mother, and ***** like twenty four year old father. They were amazed to see that their little girl had similar traits of both, instead of looking like only one of them, she had her dad’s deep bright blue, and slightly chubby dimpled cheeks, and her mom’s tanned skin, plump lips, and dark brown almost black hair. Her mom dropped out of school so she could raise her daughter properly, with a mother’s love, that’s what she’d always use to say, a mother’s love could cure anything, a so called boo-boo, to a broken heart, which is true, completely and utterly true, her mother was like her best friend, she could tell her anything and know she wouldn’t scrutinize her for doing so. Her dad spent his time working, or whatever he did from six in the morning till ten at night. When she reached the age of eight years, her father just got up and left, her parents hadn’t been fighting or anything, he just didn’t come home one night, and they’ve never heard from him since. Her mom got two jobs so she could keep up with the mortgage and put food on the table, so then she saw much less of her around the house.
When she turned ten years of age, her mother got remarried to a nice American fellow by the name of Cedric, their marriage resulted in another addition to the family, a little half brother by the name of Chester. They lived together happily in Russia for two more years, until her step father persuaded the family to move to his home town of New York, New York. They packed up all their things and left the place that held so many memories, both good and bad. Once they settled down in the big city after a few months of living there, Cedric resumed his job of being a car mechanic. Sure, if wasn't something over the top like she expected, like a lawyer or business man, but it put food on the table and gave them a little something extra to spend as well. It wasn't a huge difference from their live before, but it was much better, instead of struggling to keep up with the rent, go some days without food because they didn't have the cash to spend on such frivolities, now they could live the normal American life of being middle class. Her mother retired to the position of being a stay at home wife, compared to the work she used to do, this was easy work, all she had to do was tend to the children, do the chores around the house, and make sure there was food on the table by the time her husband arrived home, easy work.
Age twelve was when she was first time introduced to cars and the mechanics behind them. Her step father proposed a project him and Monika could do to grow closer, they build a car from scratch, once she had her hands on the cool metal of the car's exterior which they had bought off of a nearby junk yard, restoring it to its former glory within a year's time. That's when she knew what she wanted to do with her life, she wanted to work on cars, to drive them, to show up fellow drivers what hard work and calloused hands could produce. At the age of fourteen she had been admitted into the Vipers as a lowly mechanic, a local street racing gang, the leader saying something along the lines of her showing promise, she's worked on other drivers' cars and make sure they were up and running before a race, and whenever damage came to the car, they'd bring it to her and she fix it up as good as new. She worked her way up the food chain and became one of the top drivers, by the age of eighteen. She got in trouble a few times, got caught by the cops, after her sixth arrest, she decided not to get caught up too deep in the whole 'gang' lifestyle and quit. Eventually she moved to Oliviette, in hopes of starting a new life and keeping herself out of trouble, she got a job, as a car mechanic, and bought an apartment, which she still lives in alone. But eventually she felt the pull of the local racers, especially since a few of them were her customers at the mechanics and they told her to come out to the races some day and show them what the hell she's made of. And well ... that's kind of what lead her to this, again.
My Personality: Monika is first and for most, a tomboy. She has been known for getting into fights, either physically or verbally, though it's not her fault, they all had it coming to them sooner or later, she just choose to do it sooner rather than later. She will not tolerate someone speaking foully or threatening her friends and family, she just won't tolerate that kind of stuff. She does not take insults as a joke from a complete stranger, whether they are aimed towards her or someone else, putting people down for your own satisfaction is wrong and is the weak thing to do, she will seriously punch some sense into you, so well, expect a punch in the face, if you do any of the precluding things ... that is, unless you were just joking around or having a laugh, then it would mean absolutely nothing to her, but if you were doing it out of pure meanness, she will seriously beat your face in just for the fact that you did it. She is not short fused, it takes a lot to get her all red faced and angry. But be careful, once you push her over the edge, she will seriously blow up on anyone and everyone that is in her way, she's like a bull in a china shop: She won't leave until every piece of glass is broken. But all of this is a mask of her true personality, so don't let it fool you, she's more than meets the eye, you just have to get past the tough exterior first.
Extra: She has a slight accent due to her being born and raised in Russia, it gets stronger whenever she gets angry, frustrated, or when she meets men or women that have a thing for foreigners. Also, she speaks fluent Russian, duh. She usually brandishes the U.S.S.R and Federation, with the familiar 'sickle and hammer' design on most of her clothes.
Snake Eyes N Sissies
Car: 1948 Delahaye.
Name: Bathilda Olivia Barth.
Gender: Female.
Age: Twenty Four.
Orientation: Bisexual.
My Story: On April 20th, twenty four years ago to the day, her twenty five year old mother and thirty year old father, got the first glimpse of their children as they gingerly removed the blankets that clothed our small bodies. A set of identical twins, Bathilda Olivia Barth, and her sister, Bruna Ulga Barth, who was born five minutes later. Starting at a young age, her sister and her had already began to show how truly different they were from each other. It was kindergarten when they found out they had opposite personalities. She had always stayed inside the classroom during recess and read a book, or made well structured castles out of legos, instead of playing outside with her sister and the other children. She was an anti-social girl, where as her sister loved to be the life of the party. Despite their differences, her and her sister were first and foremost best friends before they were siblings. Their opposite personalities and interests were like two pieces and together they're the entire puzzle, their differences were what made them so compatible with each other, the one things one of them were lacking the other would make up with their own, if that makes any sense. In elementary school, they were still as close as they could ever be, but had completely different friends and cliques, so the only time they saw each other was once they got home, but before the day was over, they'd lay in their shared room and tell each other about their day. By the age of ten, she had opened up to a few a her classmates and gained a small group of friends, but around the same times her mother and father were getting a divorce, having a rather rough patch in their romance, each parents was having an affair, her mother was sleeping with a co - worker and her father was staying late at work almost every night ... with his secretary. Her and her twin sister were torn apart, as the custody battle gave each parents one of the child, her mother took Bruna while her father took her. They moved from Babenhausen, Germany, to it's capital of Berlin.
Her mother and sister lost contact with them, so the letters exchanged between the two twins ended, but she still felt that bond between them tug endlessly, getting depressed because she knew somewhere out there Bruna was sad too, it was the unsaid bond between two twins that's never been able to be explain by science or logic, they just new. Bathilda never made a move to get to know people at her new school, neither did they make a move to get to know her, she was infamously known as the school loner, but it didn't bother her, she liked her solitude. It was during her senior year when she got a phone call from her mother, after four years of not speaking to each other, she had called to inform her of her twin sister's funeral, she had been murdered, the details of the murder was she had be raped and then stabbed twelve times, two of the stabs had been in her neck, leaving her paralyzed, her murderer then left her naked in some alleyway to bleed out from all of the wounds he had inflicted on her. Since she found out about Bruna's parting, Bathilda wasn't mentally stable, blaming herself for her younger twin's death, she should have been there to protect her, to keep her safe, like big sisters do. Both Bathilda and her father flew back to Babenhausen, where her mother and sister had been living all these years, to attend the funeral, at the funeral she noticed one thing, there was a boy in the crowd of mourner who seemed especially anxious about to see her body lowered into the ground, smiling even when it was done, later on her mother informed her that this was Bruna's long term boyfriend, Gregor, the suspected murderer, who after the investigation, was declared innocent because they could find no evidence linking him to Bruna's murder, though he had no alibi for the night in question. The boy she barely knew was her first kill, one she would savior for the rest of her life, because finally she found she could let her sister's soul rest, her murderer had been brought to justice.
Bathilda had studied the boy's daily schedule, catching him when he least expected it, she knocked him out with a napkin soaked in chloroform, she brought him to an abandoned building, where she chained him to a chair and tortured him for hours, using anything she could get her paws that would cause him pain, including making him watch as she murdered his little sixteen year old sister, Gloria, demanding he confess to the murder of her sister, after twelve hours of torture he admitted to it, while wet tears soaked his bloodied face, and in return, she ended his life with a gun shot to the head. She was sloppy with her murder, the bodies of the brother and sister were found the next day, but they didn't link it to her. She got away with murder and was now home free, and she continued on with her life, she went to medical school to become a doctor, a life long dream of her's before the murder, but there was a nagging voice in the back of her head, she didn't want to become a doctor, she didn't want to help people, she wanted to help destroy people. She wanted to feel the blood on her hands, to hear her victims scream in pain, she wanted to feel like god if even for a little while, but she suppressed the urges to smother her dorm mate with her own pillow as she slept for four long years. A few days after she graduated from medical school, at her own graduation party, police arrived at her, hand cuffed her, and dragged her off to the station for questioning. But there was only one question that was asked as she sat inside one of the interrogation rooms, would she rather be exposed to the public as the murderer she really was and spend the rest of her life in prison or would she be willing to work for the higher ups that secretly ran the police station by buying off the officers with money and women, she chose the job they offered. They trained her in the art of killing, giving her new toys to play with when doing so; knives, guns, whips, and chains, everything you could possibly imagine.
But there was a final test before training could end, you have to be tortured yourself, stuck in a room for twenty four hours while person after person came in and inflicted damage on you, if you admit defeat you would be killed almost immediately, they don't have any room for weaklings here, they needed people that would go to the grave with the secrets they collected over the years, if you lasted the twenty four hours they'd give you medical attention and you were accepted into their organization with open arms. Bathilda lasted the twenty four hours, and now proudly carries the scars she gained that day as if they are metals on her mantle. After that she started working for a small organization in Europe, that trained people like her, and lent them to other parties for the right amount of money that is and she gets paid in large amounts to do the dirty work involved in most of her torturing or possibly killing, most of her jobs include, kidnapping, torturing, killing, and then getting rid of the body. Plus, if her employers wanted for her victims to surfer more than usual, she'll use her medical training to help keep her victims alive longer; blood transfusions, wrapping up the wounds to slow the bleeding, exedera. The organization she worked for went by the nickname, Payne, there was a small piece of it located in Europe, but the big boys lived in America, and that's where she was sent after becoming experienced enough, and by working there her salary was doubled, and it was much easier to find employers, because when they needed her, they'd come and find her.
My Personality: Bathilda is a bit mentally unstable, never mind, she's really mentally unstable, she was never considered quite right in the head after her sister passed. Her usual day consists of sleeping, eating, killing and or torturing someone, some would say she's a workaholic, but only because she enjoys her job, she loves feeling like god, being on control of whether someone lives or dies, she gets off on it. She's sadistic, cruel, and holds no fears, of anything, not even death, honestly she more than curious to see how her life pans out. She has a short temper, so if she hears one thing she doesn't like, a ruse comment or insult, though most don't even phase her, don't be surprised if she starts beating your face into the concrete or puts a gun to your temple. She enjoys inflicting pain on others, and is a little bit of a masochist herself, let's just say, "Sticks and stone may break my bones, but whips and chains excite me." Her dream boyfriend would be the type of man who beats her when he's angry with the things she's done, and then wouldn't be surprised after wards that she wants to have sex with him, not to make up her wrong doings, but because she gets off on pain, if a man chained her up and tortured her, the only thing keeping her from jumping on them right then and there would be the chains that kept her held down.
Extra: She speaks fluent German, and prefers to speak it over English, since it's her first language, but when speaking English she has a very thick accent. She lives in a pent house, which she shares with her pet, an adult male Anchietae Python, named Bardawulf, who has his room own room, though most of it is filled up with his own tank which is rather large and resembles an animal exhibit at the zoo, on the other side of the room are tanks filled with other animal; rabbits, rats, parrots, which aren't pets, they're food, and will eventually be fed to her beloved snake.
Appearance: 
(Username) TexicanCookie
Car: 
Name: Tyler Allen Scott
Gender: Male
Age: 23
Orientation: Straight
My Story: My full name is Tyler Allen Scott, and I was born in Virginia to Mr. Jordan Robert Scott and Mrs. Kacey Marie Scott, a middle-class family with big aspirations. My Dad was a cubicle worker but I learned what I know from him and him only, my hero....
Well time came, and we moved away from Virginia, mostly because my mom always wanted to move out west....And this is how we ended up in Olivette, as soon as Dad could get enough money we bought a nice little house a few minutes from the main city. And that's when I started High School.
I guess this is where my adventures really started, I was always of timid nature and quiet manner. I had very few friends in Virginia, I guess I was the type of guy who never really needed socializing because he was always stuck under the hood of a car or greased up in the face so that women were really just wary of me....I have a deep love for cars, but I was more of an aesthetics-body-type of guy rather than the mechanical works of one. Don't get me wrong I can dismantle an Engine and put it back together with no problem whatsoever, but I much prefer to be perfecting the lines of the body of a car...You know....
Well....High School here in Olivette was way different than it is where I came from. First off there's the people...I met a few different and interesting people here...Some crazy guys who got me into the whole racing scene in the place it started all out like good fun and it was, I liked it alot...You know, it was pretty darn nice seeing so many beautiful cars everywhere...Except for those damn Mustangs....Damn Fords....They're good for nuthin'...Well almost nothing...I do owe 'em one thing though...Thanks to 'em I met the Girl of my life. Pretty little thing, with the brightest bluest eyes, and the best thing I liked about her was that she wasn't afraid to get down and greased up....even if she did like'em Fords. I was in Love...Too bad she had a damn boyfriend...He didn't deserve her, and I? I was always too damn timid to let her know that I liked her...and that was why I poked fun at the types of cars she liked....Her name? Pfft. You think I would forget it? Ashe...but she was my Carbon....That's what I called her, when we became friends.... Well.....I do regret not letting her know of my feelings, After I graduated, I kind of lost touch with her, because I went on on my own tryin' to do something with my life...or something....Anything.
I kind of failed at my father's business....why? I couldn't stand being stuffed in a cubicle all day. I felt monotony invading me. I wanted to be back out on the street with all the shiny cars. So I did...and I was racing, and I was among cars...and it felt good...but like any temporary High you get from a drug, it goes away and you don't realize how bad it is for you until its too late....It was the same way with me and the SS, I got so high on the cars and the good stuff that when I realized that I was losing my 'normal' everyday cubicle life, it was too late and it was gone.
Lucky for me, the SS requires lots of workers...Loyal guys and gals who like the cars and want to work with them. And so I've been hidden in one of the many garages of one of the higher ups, I really have no clue who I'm working for, but so long as they appreciate my work and pay me I'm good....Although one day I would want to get enough money to start my own garage.....And maybe stop working SS or something...I don't know. but for now, I like my job.
My Personality: I'm a decent, good and honest man, who's only love in lilfe is the cars he gets his hands on. I'm somewhat timid, but I also like to poke fun at people...Especially a certain pretty mechanic gal.....
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