Currently
- Dominic | NYC
- Gleeon | Sundown Bar & Cafe, Manhattan, New York
- Jett | Unknown (NYC)
-Synova | Sundown Bar & Cafe, Manhattan, New York
Thoughts
- Dominic | "You're cute when you want me to stay." | 100%
- Gleeon | "Spill it before I spill your guts." | 100%
- Jett | "Shut the fuck up and answer me." | 100%
- Synova | " ... " | 5%
- - -
"Karma" | "Bitch" | "Brat" | "Miss Skellington" | "Smalls" | "Ms. Chiot" | "Don Karma"
♀
27 years old
5'7 ft
Ex - Bounty Hunter | Currently: Mafia Boss
Demon - Dire Wolf / Human
____________________
"Underestimate Me, That'll Be Fun."
[ Chaotic Evil Neutral || ESTJ || Scorpio ]
She was inevitable
She was ruthless
She embodied the definition of karma
Let her play, or get the fuck away.
After undergoing rehabilitation at the Hunter Society Headquarters, her irrational behavior and destructiveness simmered down immensely. It's as if she's a different person, but it doesn't mean her violent tendencies have escaped her. In fact, her being calmer just makes her all the more deadlier. She used to whistle for people to hear her approach, but now with a clearer mind makes for a quicker, more strategic approach in taking down targets. Agnes' reputation still stands as an insane, trigger-happy monster to strangers trespassing her territory and most of the underground, and proving them wrong makes her job all the more pleasurable.
She's cold, stark, and brutally honest with strangers. If you aren't a nuisance, you're competition, and if you put up with her just enough, you may even befriend her. This is harder for women than it is for men, not that she prefers one over the other, but the fact that the intensity of her Type A personality tends to spark conflict or drive them away. To her friends, Agnes is compassionate and a little silly even, teasing them in a playful manner.
However, she is incredibly selective of the inner circle she maintains. Agnes is a New Yorker with a spitfire attitude
that lies beneath a calm, sophisticated demeanor.
_____________________________
"I Call Shots, While You Call Off."
Her past is dark and twisted, the entirety of her childhood was devoted to becoming a trained marksman for a corporate mafia family in Manhattan, NYC. One event led up to another for the next four years, an organized coup occurred that she took part in, dissolving the family's name, yet the business was immediately taken by her drill instructor that he withheld. Agnes remained close to her former instructor and to the details of his business.
Nine years later, his assets were choked by another mafia boss attempting to his usurp his resources. Agnes was told to murder her former instructor, with some help, as he was about to give in to this interloper's demands. After his untimely death and successfully disposed of the intruding mafia boss, Agnes finds herself with more power than she had ever asked for. She now runs half of the borough's manfacturing, shipment, and transactions of weapons of trade. Agnes knew enough about the quality of artillery, but didn't know she would be knee deep in the arms industry.
Her territory stretches from the Upper West Side to below Hell's Kitchen. Her colleague, Apollonius Grimm, has the other half, as equal as it can get. With a calmer demeanor, Agnes attempts to not abuse her power. Her hands don't get as dirty as her previous job, but at times she will personally check exports and is conscious about the safety of her men if a transaction goes awry.
Another source of income for Agnes is being the co-owner of a bar and cafe called Sundown. It was once a rustic, narrow bar in Hell's Kitchen, but after getting her new occupation, it has moved into Columbus Avenue in the Upper West Side. Her bad reputation and mysticized beast form has made the bar an attraction for tourists, Agnes blames the locals for this. She used to be the bouncer for Sundown, but after the notoriety began, Spencer, co-owner/parental figure, took up the job to prevent anymore unwanted attention coming her way. Sundown is the ground level entrance to high-end apartments above it where Agnes resides, so she is typically seen there for leisure or to converse with Spencer.
_____________________________
"Catcall And You're a Corpse."
Agnes wears light, breathable clothes when running through the streets, and isn't afraid to show some skin, even in the coldest weather. Her raven locks spill over her shoulders, lacking any dye as she has decided to keep her natural hair. Agnes has metallic blue eyes like her father and pale skin like her mother. A dull tattoo of three roses and an upside-down compass lies just below her right shoulder.
She has something close to a Jersey/Brooklyn accent. When the wolf skull materializes, so do a pair of wolf ears, serving as a great indicator of her emotions due to the fact that her face is concealed. Agnes's physique is lean and toned, free running through allies and parkour on rooftops. She has enhanced senses, her most powerful is being able to smell someone familiar three city blocks away. The wolf grants her increased endurance, stamina, speed, and strength.
...
"That's Not All, Folks."
Agnes can shift into a hellish creature that she inherits from her mother, a massive dire wolf with some areas of her skeleton revealed. She has already allowed the wolf to swallow up her humanity at a young age, being in complete control in this form that acts almost like a power-up. However, there are consequences when using the wolf, one being that she is stuck in this form for the next couple of days and once reverted Agnes becomes immensely lethargic, becoming vulnerable to her enemies.
"I hear its voice."
_______________________________
"And in the middle of my chaos, there was you."
- Greysexual -
[ x 1 - Taken ]
⚜️
"Chaton" | "Dom"
Dominic has been the quickest relation Agnes has ever made. It started off with a debt after Dominic gave her a job to do, but they found themselves around each other more often than not. The vampire knows more about her than anyone she's ever met, and she trusts in him to maintain that secrecy. Complicated feelings floated to the surface, Agnes has never been more sure of her feelings. She has always adored the vampire, but with issues of his coven coming to light, Agnes can't imagine her life without him. She loves him, more than words can explain, and will do everything in her power to keep him close and comfortable.
____________________
"Wanna Know A Lil' More?"
• Due to help in unlikely places, Agnes and her demons are one and the same. Her blood is black, and too toxic to harbor a child, so she believes. Another result are two new powers. One being the ability to manipulate shadows for her to hide in and travel in short distances beneath its veil. The other being an increase in strength.
• Agnes is just as deadly without her ammunition. While she was learning how to handle a sniper rifle at the age of twelve, Agnes was being trained in Brazilian ju-jitsu, eskrima, as well as parkour to build her stamina and endurance while she was in the mafia. She was pitted against full grown, trained men over and over until Agnes became highly proficient at all three.
• Agnes is fluent in English, Italian, and French, and understands bits and pieces of Japanese from her instructor when she was younger. She's eager to have more languages under her belt.
• Agnes prefers to adopt her father's last name, 'Hale'. She knows she has relatives, but they all stem from her mother's side, who she disowned.
• She never had a childhood, pop culture references fly over her head. That's in the works of being fixed.
• Her birthday is on Halloween
- 21+ (I can not stress this enough)
- The thoughts and actions of my character do not represent my own.
-This is fictitious content, anything related to actual experiences is entirely coincidental, that being said don't steal
-You add, you start.
-Paragraphs preferred, but one-liners are accepted.
-Godmod all you want, I'll do it right back.
-Agnes can become very vulgar, so if you drop our rp, I'll understand.
-Default setting: A city, unless given good reason not to be.
-The idea of Agnes and her storyline belong to me, all other pictures belong to their rightful owners.
- Don't feel pressured to send replies to me as soon as you get them, life's messy and comes first. I try to reply within two weeks, but that may be subject to change depending on life events and inspiration for a specific thread.
- OOC info: I've been doing this hobby for over 10 years [ this hobby is absolutely not addictive ], I owe it to writing for making me meet new people I never thought I would ever get the chance to talk to irl, and for giving me a sense of vocabulary and the awareness that I need to read more. As a writer, I believe I still have a lot to learn, so if there is any critique in my writing style to be said, please let me know.
-I'm a Discord mod for the Wrealms server (Angus/Nemo). Agnes might be intimidating but I try not to be, if you're interested in writing, I'm usually more open to discussion there.
F A N | A R T S
Kei: [IMG]
Alice O'Malley: [IMG1], [IMG2], [IMG3]
Tsunami: [IMG]
Creo: [IMG]
FC: Kaya Scodelario | VC: Black Cat - Spider-Man . PS4
Comments
Dahlia’s palm found the edge of her chin while she leaned against the counter listening to the brief synopsis of the boy she had only seen in a hurry. As for that night? She only knew what she saw. It seemed like Dominic got along well enough besides the screaming. While Agnes spoke her brow would raise and lower on occasion, taking in the details and finding what spaces they might fill with whatever she had in mind. Checking off the invisible list. “Yeah? And what does he do for work?”
The conversation shifted as did Dahlia’s expression. Her brow knitted together, and she shifted to let both arms rest on the countertop. “Oh, and did Dom tell you about that?” The innocent enough question sent the vampire onto thin ice if it were true. “We met a handful of years back. Paradox needed someone for our dirty work; take a job, get partial profit. No questions asked. We don’t have it very often anymore, but it's good revenue. We’re not in a very popular business as is. The shop keeps its portion for lining things up and ensuring everyone gets paid. When I came across Kei he was looking to work, no questions asked. He was pretty good at it. A little messy, but it didn’t matter when nothing traces back to Paradox. The only paper trail is sealed in blood.”
Her arms crossed. “After a while, he started coming around more often and it wasn’t just to check on available jobs. Dominic hated it naturally. I know you’ll be oh-so-surprised to hear but those two have never gotten along.” Dahlia smirked briefly. A smile lingered afterward. “We shared a few nights, I don’t regret it. I wanted to blow off steam, he wanted to make it something more… that’s where we differed. I didn’t come this far to carry someone else’s baggage around. Let alone for some demon that didn’t know how to get his life together. Jason didn’t want to hear that. He sulked off after that night and I didn’t see him for a few years. Next thing I know I get a knock and there’s a fucking Hunter at the back door. I thought that curse had gotten the best of him.”
Dark brown hues studied Agnes momentarily and a brow rose. “You know he never mentioned you back then, I can’t imagine you two are close. Don’t get me wrong, but he never came off as the nurturing kind.”
Dahlia listened on in silence. Some of which she knew, but as for the sacrificial portion, it filled in some of the blanks for the hysteria that night. The man had hugged her the evening before; did he really think that was the last time they would meet? Nonetheless it was over. They had all moved on, in one way or another. That left the future for the mage to worry about instead. The simple question left her lips, then. She wasn’t one to pry into the vampire’s business, but it wasn’t just about Dominic now. In the past maybe she regretted that she hadn’t.
Some tension eased in Dahli’s mind when the hard part was done. Agnes knew, as she rightfully should by now. She would have skinned the man alive if he hadn’t told her anything.
“Sounds like it works well, until he’s had a cigarette, or anything else in between,” Dahlia murmured a tad skeptically but hadn’t made eye contact while she thought. “He was. He was still grieving when you came in that night. But… he was moving forward, at least. He was tolerable to work with again. I had told him the month before that he was done with Paradox. Something changed.” Her gaze flickered back to Agnes and one hand clasped over the other. “Five hundred years doesn’t always equate to expertise. If you see him fidgeting, or it seems like he’s more impatient than usual, don’t ignore it. Take care of yourself.” There was a pause of silence where a humorless smirk came and went. “You’re a smart girl, Agnes. Just be careful for both of you.”
“Now,” Dahlia stood and walked a couple of paces before leaning on the counter edge. She raised a brow. “Tell me more about this Nemo kid you brought in that night.”
It wasn’t the first withheld truth the man had ever kept from Dahlia, and part of her knew it wouldn’t be the last. She had come to accept it was part of how he worked; he kept things on his own need-to-know basis until ready to let it out. The only problem was that need-to-know basis was in the vampire’s perception. Not hers. Blood, time, work—it was always about control. That thin line of trust had come from their years working together, even when she had every right in the world to break it off. At times she even had. Still she had to wonder. Why would she leave this scrap of expectation on her? The demoness seemed to be either a bad omen or a perhaps useful tool for what was really in Dominic’s head.
Dahlia studied Agnes’ expression and how it changed while she told her what the blood mage had come to guess, since the vampire returned to work far too relaxed after a trip away. The smile on her lips sobered a fraction while she thought. Dark brown hues fell on the counter thoughtfully and a casual voice came of it. “You know, every part of me wanted to stop him that night of the gala. He wasn’t the only one in the room worried about losing someone… but,” Dahlia’s lips pursed. Her gaze returned to Agnes with an arch of a brow. “I’d seen that look before. If anything happened to you that night, he wasn’t going to be the same man in the morning. I would have lost him anyway, in one form or another.”
The mage bit the inside of her cheek. "Agnes." A long silence persisted but ultimately seemed to come from a pending thought. “Has he told you about Elena?”
It all happened quickly, though speed was what Jett was known for. Why had he allowed this to happen? Had he allowed this to happen? It was sad really, Jett had lost all sense of pride; all sense of himself. He'd even rambled with a few underground cage fights in the last couple of months. Daresay, he'd intentionally lost several just to feel himself again. Logically, his motives made no sense. But mentally, the abuse did something for him.
"Really? A blindfold?" A snide remark came from the Redhead's lips. He too could feel the difference in strength, though in his current mindset, Jett couldn't say he'd have even fought the bouncers in the first place. Surely, the security that currently had him detained also felt the lack of struggle.
The car door slammed shut behind them and an unfamiliar voice echoed from the front seat. Jett slumped himself forward, head facing downward. Underneath that potato sack of a bag, a coy half-smile tugged at his lips. "You've detained me all wrong, rude yet alluring police Sargent lady." This was true, the easiest way to catch a Jett would have been to stop him from speaking; being said, he could have easily turned this situation bad not only for himself but for everyone in the car as well.
"Sunglass." He snickered, letting his head fall back on the backrest of the car's seat. His eyes closed, breath forcibly blowing into the bag to cause movement on its exterior. "If you're asking me on a date, this is a bit excessive." A pause, "I like it." Another moment of time was consumed with a pause before the trickster spoke again, "Enlighten me."
The curiosity and skepticism alike flashed in Dahlia’s eyes when it was her that Agnes was in the shop to visit it. Before she could decipher whether that was a positive or negative thing the familiar name was heard. “Nik..?” The woman’s posture loosened up to the name and she sat upright ever so slightly to listen. Her brow furrowed first in concern, but eventually, a hand rose to rub her temple. “He pushed it too far, didn’t he? Taj idiot! Upozorio sam ga- I warned him you know! He could have been split in two! He should be lucky ending up in Russia is all that happened…” Dahlia resumed leaning against the counter and her hand covered her mouth in thought. The look of concern on the regularly aggressive shop owner’s face could have shown why Nik stuck around in the first place. What about the demon? Oh well. It was out of her hands now.
Dahlia wore a look of displeasure over the demoness’ next terms and conditions that came through in her stare. “No… I can’t,” Dahlia uttered matter-of-factly and crossed her arms. Promises were weak, the blood mage only dealt in pacts. She wasn’t about to promise one of those to Agnes either. Not to mention the only thing harder than keeping secrets from Dominic was trying to pry any secrets out of the man. The mage’s lips pursed. When did they work next together? Just what would he have to say? She seemed to deliberate for a long few seconds before drawing in a breath. “But… you haven’t given me much of a choice, have you?”
She had to get off the subject and the sooner the better before any more prying meant trouble. A knowing glance fell on Agnes next and some of the tension was dropped. Her hands clasped under her chin and a half-smile crept across her lips. “It sounds like you had an eventful trip… he’s been in a good mood since he got back you know.”
A high pitched Squeeeeeeeeee emitted from the beast like an old outdated electronic. Small feets left the ground when the TENNANT picked him off the ground. The sound halted when only his tail was left to drag.
Small forearms crept out of the F L O OF and proceeded to knead Agnes' arm like a newborn kitten.
"No STEAL, only t ak e," Bean retorted most expertly, the last word leaving his mouth in a rickety manner. Stolen?!? No no nonono no he hadn't chosen which ones to steal yet. He was in the process of ✨ deciding ✨when strange puppy girl arrived.
The landlord was set down, and the couch CREAKED in complaint. He shifted his weight to make it stop singing its strange song. He turned around three times one way and then three times the other without ever laying down.
"NO packages," The response slipped out of his maw like an eerie whisper. The mailman was watched with beedy black eyes and needle-filled jaws open while Agnes took him back into the other room.
While she was away, he hopped down and picked a mug. Bean leaned down to pick one up with his forearms and pulled it entirely into his floof, liquid and all, never to be seen again.
The Hot Chocolate. (Commence pitter-pattering.)
The pitter-patter was more of a STOMP. Bean alternated which feeties to favor, save his back left which was on probation.
"EEEEEEEE-"
Circle circle circle circle circle circle circle circle circle circle circle circle circle AAAAANND- stop.
Bean nodded.
With the passing days, Dominic’s responses were never too far behind her own, responding dotingly. Paradox was left intact since he last worked. If anything, it was running smoothly compared to the previous months it had taken to get them back up to speed. They had upcoming jobs and prospects that Dahlia had come upon since he left. The shop hadn’t missed the energy in Dominic’s steps or the oddly pleasant mood that almost made Jovan more on edge. He was humming. He hadn’t cared what came on the playlist. What the hell had gotten into him?
“-You must’ve had some kind of a trip with Homegirl, aah?” Jo prodded from behind the counter in the basement where a set of tools were strewn out, an amulet-like item in his hands. A set of glasses equipped with a magnifying lens and a flashlight were propped atop his head, long hair tied back loosely.
“Why don’t we focus on the work we had a week to get done, hm?” A bitter response came from Dom who was midway through one of the safes, taking inventory.
“I’m just sayin’! I know a happy man when I see one, and nothing makes a man happy like-”
“-Do you want to keep your tongue?” It only took that to snap the vampire back into a mood for the next half hour.
-/-
Come Wednesday, Dominic was off on his own mission for later that night while Dahlia held down the shop. The woman was absent when the door rang to Agnes’ arrival but the shop speakers were humming to Animal by Sir Chloe in the background. The woman’s shouting in Serbian interrupted the music as it echoed from the back room, and the sound of footsteps up the stairway came next. Jovan shouted something back similarly, whatever smart remark it was slipping through the door before it shut.
The curtain was pulled open and the blood mage appeared behind it. Dahlia pulled it shut behind him and made her way toward the counter while her eyes were already set on the figure in the room. A private smile tugged at the corner of painted lips. Well, if it wasn’t the other piece of the puzzle. Her arms crossed over her chest. A denim jacket was worn that fit snugly to her body. A black t-shirt from a local tattoo shop was underneath. Black denim jeans and boots accompanied to finish it off. As always, winged eyeliner was worn to match.
“Agnes,” Dahlia greeted with an edge of surprise in her tone. Dominic wasn’t here. Surely she knew his schedule with how often he watched the man pick up his phone in the days before. She walked further across the counter and took a seat on one of the stools present. Her elbows met the surface and her hands clasped loosely under her chin.
“You’re early, you know... Dom isn’t in until later. From what I gather the trip went well?”
As Agnes grew near to her apartment, she would find the door open.
...sort of. Where the hinges normally lie securely fixed upon the wall, a mixture of rubber bands, hot glue, and painter's tape was keeping the plank of finely rendered wood stationary.
The C R E E EEEEEA A AK of the door opening landed in a solid THUD.
Inside it was dark.
With one step inside she would be greeted with a *tink* as Agnes' foot tapped something on the ground.
It was a coffee mug. One among many. They were filled to the brim with tea that had been steeping for who-knows-long and precariously placed on the floor. The tables. The tops of the cabinets. Every cup, mug, or receptacle that could contain water was brewing.
WHen the door fell, the surfaces all rippled like a low-budget Jurassic Park ripoff that Laura took Bean and Mr. Toger to when they were younger.
From behind the couch (which had been shoved forward) were beady eyes and furrowed eyebrows staring off like a void below perked ears. Hardly hidden, hardly aware nor caring.
The MAILMAN meanwhile was barking at Agnes thru the balcony door and wagging his tail uncertainly.
Bean did not like the incessant mailman who would not stop talking about his deliveries.
A Random Casino | After hours
A simple game of blackjack had just begun. Several men were seated around a felt-covered table. A few had their respective female counterparts at their side. It had been loss after loss for Jett; a particular redhead that seemed to be pulling an all-nighter to keep his losses going. A few of his competitors laughed and jeered him on. Jett laughed right along with them and jokingly admitted his failures this evening.
The cards were withdrawn by the dealer. An intermission took place while their playing pieces were being shuffled. Jett definitely looked out of place. While most others were dressed in their finest suits, he wore a simple white wife-beater-styled tank top and a black jacket unzipped. While he didn't look quite the level of homeless, he definitely looked as if he didn't belong here.
This didn't stop someone with good taste from approaching him. Blonde, tall, cute face, yes just his type. Jett gave her a look over before leaning back in his seat and tossing his arm over the rest of the chair as if allowing her access. Like clockwork, her sequined dress plopped itself into Jett's lap. She giggled a time or two but didn't actually speak. It was how most females acted in casinos, Jett was well aware.
"You're on the wrong lap, honey"
This caused both Jett and his newfound lady to turn in the direction of the voice. It was a fellow competitor he'd been playing against for most of the evening. He was round man dressed in an admirably expensive suit. This brought a half-smile to the corner of Jett's mouth. A few teeth even showed through.
Diverting his attention away from the voice and back to the bunny in his lap, Jett slid a hand up her bare leg and around the curve of her back. "You want a drink, Princess?" He asked. The woman replied with a simple nod followed by a giggle. To which, Jett turned and caught hold of the closest wandering server. "Two Goldschlägers." As the server turned Jett was quick to call him back. "Wait, wait, one more for my friend here." He added, motioning across the table to the round man.
"Isn't that a little out of your budget?"
Jett had just bought the guy a drink and he was still being an asshole. "Look, Mister West, was it?" The redhead spoke. "Let's make a deal. Next game, I'll all in if you do. I understand you have far more money than I. But considering I've been losing all night, you shouldn't have much to worry about. I'll get out of here when I lose, and you can have the girl too." He motioned to the woman on his lap. For a moment she looked taken aback, though soon after gave a rolling-fingered wave in his direction. There was a long pause as the three drinks Jett ordered were delivered. Once the gold flaked liquid was placed in front of Mr. West, his eyes dropped to inspect it.
"Fine."
A curl formed at the corner of Jett's mouth. "Good." He hissed. The trickster gave his blonde bunny a pat or two on the lower back coaxing her from his lap. Instinctively, she shuffled to the empty seat next to Jett. The cards were dealt, this was it. "All in," Jett spoke to the dealer, affirming his decision with a simple head nod. The redhead's gaze returned to his competitor, "Don't back out now Mr. West." He taunted shuffling a pair of Rayban sunglasses from the top of his head to cover his eyes.
The game had begun. Blackjack was typically a swift game, but as everything rode on this specific round, time ticked slowly. During the card game, Jett and Mr. West eyed each other several times. Were they trying to read the other's thoughts? A cocky snicker escaped Jett's lips drawing his opponent's attention. The redhead sat back in his seat, fluidly lowering his glasses lower on the bridge of his nose. That was all it took, their eyes were locked. Mostly hidden behind the sunglasses, Jett's left eye had visibly shifted from green to a deep red hue.
"Hit me."
Mr. West had requested another card. It was met with compliance by the dealer. "Oh?" Jett quirked.
"Hit me."
This time, their game dealer looked a bit taken aback. Yet, this was how the game worked. Thus, another card was shuffled in the businessman's direction. Here Jett sat, the same two cards he started with. Was he even looking at his cards? Was he even contemplating his options? "Oh my, Mr. West." Jett taunted. Silence clouded the other side of the table. "Is everyone ready?" The dealer questioned. Neither party objected. "Show." The dealer once again spoke, his eyes heavy on both party's cards for common cheats.
"Four, Ten, Jack, Eight." Jett's cocky tone tugged at his words, "Mr. West? I'm confused, that's far past twenty-one." He traced his hands over his own cards but didn't need to call the numbers out. It was obvious he'd won as his opponent had bust. Jett pushed his sunglasses back on top of his head. Two green orbs scanned over his cards once again before turning to his catch of the night, "Another drink, Princess?"
"He won with Five." A stranger was overheard, before blending back into his crowd's conversation. "I don't understand." Mr. West began, "I-I don't know why I did that."
Jett kicked back, arms behind his head and shoes resting upon the game table. "One too many drinks?" The redhead prodded before adding, "Either way, I'll take what's mine." Jett was paid, and promptly too. It was an easy seven hundred thousand. This was his biggest haul in a long time. Eventually, the table cleared, his opponent too stumbled himself out the front door. Jett turned his head to allow his gaze to land on his blonde bunny, "Whatdya say, Princess. Should we get out of here too?"
If you were making a Human cookie, what would the recipe be?
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