Death and The Reapers

[V.elocity]

* Admin Note: These three characters can only be played by filling out a try out application. Members who play either of the three will be selected. I will include a form on this post so please, reply to this post with your applications.

In this world Death is not a shrouded skeleton, but merely a man who escorts people to the afterlife. The Reapers are not as one would expect, but two young adults, Death's twin children. These Reapers stay here on the island and escort dead souls to their father who, in turn, sends them to whatever afterlife is out there. Death put them in charge on Paleo Island believing that they needed to learn responsibility since they would have Death's job one day when he decided to retire in a sense.

Death

Name: unknown
Called: Death, Father
Age: unknown but appears to be in his late forties or early fifties
Gender: Male
Height: 6'1"
Eyes: Vibrant blue
Hair: Raven Black (though his children are convinced he dyes it to hide the grey)
Skin Tone: Unnaturally pale
Appearance: Very thin, angular shoulders and face, long bent nose (almost resembles a vulture's beak), cold eyes, very thin long face, long legs and arms with long bony fingers
Preferred Attire: Death is usually dressed from head to toe in black. Every article of clothing he owns is, rightly, black. He likes to dress smartly and create an almost aristocratic appearance about himself.
Personality: quiet, serious, cold, detached, interested in the living, love his children, intelligent
Residence: His own realm which he appropriately dubbed 'The Beyond'

The Reapers

Name: Morana Thanatos
Called: Morana, Miss Thanatos, Mora
Age: Looks to be in her early to mid twenties
Gender: Female
Height: 5'7"
Eyes: Stone Grey
Hair: Raven Black
Skin Tone: Pale
Appearance: Thin with an angular yet soft face, rounded narrow shoulders, lithe, full lips with a pleasantly concaved nose, large eyes, always seems to have a look of disdain on her face, long straight hair she always keep up
Preferred Attire: Dark colours, mostly dark blues and hunter greens. She loves the modern fashion and often tries out the most current fashions.
Personality: cold, serious, loves the realm of the living, not easy to amuse, dry sense of humour, snarky, sarcastic
Residence: A flat over tailor shop in Port Lucia that she shares with her twin brother

Name: Morton Thanatos
Called: Morton, Mr Thanatos, Mort
Age: Looks to be in his early to mid twenties
Gender: Male
Height: 5'11"
Eyes: Vibrant Blue
Hair: Dark Brown (borderline black)
Skin Tone: Fair
Appearance: Tall, muscular, long legs, angular handsome face with a large hint of youth in his looks, narrow nose, broad shoulders, long fingers, long hair that touches his shoulders if not pulled back
Preferred Attire: Morton loves fashion just like his sister. He tends to dress in the fanciest outfits he find, even for casual wear. He is drawn to the brighter more vibrant colours.
Personality: fun loving, great sense of humour, loves people, loves to talk, foppish, very energetic
Residence: A flat over tailor shop in Port Lucia that he shares with his twin sister

Application

Trying Out For:
Reason: Why should we choose you?
Sample Roleplay: Copying and pasting is allowed (can be from another site)
Modifiers: Please use the basic information about each character given above to flesh them out a bit more. Add more to their personality, give them a small history if you would like, tell us their likes and dislikes, etc. Please be creative!

[Toxic]

Trying Out For: Morana
Reason: Because I'm disturbingly good at roleplaying deathlike characters ;3
Sample Roleplay: [from isola dei dei]
The small mare watched Crowley with yellowed eyes, lips twitching with the want to speak, however, the ungodly thing did not utter a word. Cold stare burrowing into him, she stared endlessly, nostrils flaring quietly. An ear turned to the intruding mare as she spoke, her stare never leaving the stallion. Of course the bitch has. Crowley has probably told her all about my pathetic little life. Giving a slight, uncaring and faint nod, tearing her gaze from the black to Lucy, cocking her head like the raven does, eyes narrowing with a slap of her multi-colored whipcord. Ears slowly drew back with growing boredom, lips twitching mindlessly.

What was she to say? What? Return to her old self and begin to curse at the mare like she always had? An ear twitched as she thought this over in her mind. No, she couldn't do that, Crowley would get the best of her anger again. It would be better this way, to not utter a word and merely stare at the mare, to make her feel uncomfortable with her presence here. The reaper didn't like this intruding, new mare, not one bit. Her presence was an utter slap to Valdis's face, a plan made from Crowley's mind to trample on her personal space and to see how far her anger could keep from unleashing into an utter, mindless, blinding rage of fear and anger that the stallion fancied this new mare. But this was the new mare's homelands, she had a right to be here. However, Valdis ruled, or was the rightful Lady of these lands. But she couldn't turn down another of her breed, they were rare these days. Maybe it was best she stepped down and let Crowley rule the throne, she was not experienced nor wise enough to control an empire of their breed. Crowley had been around longer than she had, many, many years more than she had her whole lifetime. Yet, her stubbornness and instincts from her bloodlines would not let her step down to the stallion, she would hold her head high to the stallion, show him that she was not an utterly complete failure.

Growing tired of staring at the mare, she merely uttered a quiet snort with a slap of the whipcord against ebony and creamed hocks, menacing yellowed gaze returning back to the male as she recollected her thoughts about Lucy. The mare was a mudblood! She was ruining the perfection of the breed's bloodlines with her filthy existence! Anger began to boil slowly and lacking any real fury within her body, whipcord began to slap wildly against her hocks, yellow gaze beginning to lock onto the ebony stallion as she merely gave an endless stare, silently daring him to continue with his dry, mocking sarcasm about her. An ear turned to Lucy, continuing to monitor her presence silently. The tension began to thicken, the mare wanted so badly to smirk at the glorified awkward silence she had created in so little time.

The clock began to tick in her mind, endless minutes of staring with cold, ungodly and ruthless yellowed eyes at the stallion without uttering a sound. That was all she intended to do, stay in an utter silence inside her own little creation of a new personality, a new creation due to months of bitter silence spent alone, brooding. The mare had come back completely changed, whether it was good or bad, she had loved her change of personality, learning to control her outbursts of random emotions and endless curse words and mindless fucking random stallions, always killing the forming child before it had a chance to flourish within her small body. Morbid images of lifeless bodies of stallions that she had had sexual relations with just to feed herself, always leaving a little of the carcass for any other mindless equine that managed to stumble upon her kill to be shocked and scarred mentally. Images of starving to ruin any chance of offspring, depriving herself of anything to keep from letting the pathetic little weak life in her to flourish into a half blooded equine. A half blood wouldn't do, not at all.

A pained memory began to resurface on the scattered images of her mind, the memory of abandoning a small foal, resisting the natural instinct to consume it's body, even with the little nutrition it would provide. The foal was a mud blood, half reaper and half of a normal equine's blood lineage, born by pure and utter mindless accident and ignorance. She was young and stupid with her mind in the gutter of motherhood and maternity instinct to keep the foal flourishing just until it was born, hoping and hoping with sheer want that the creature would only be a still born and she wouldn't have to do a dirty deed that would put the blood of young innocence on her hooves. However, the hope was not enough. The foal had sputtered with life soon after it was born, nostrils taking in oxygen for the first time. It was healthy despite the mare barely eating enough to feed herself; her worst nightmare coming to life. The mare had birthed a pure accident, it's presence threatening to ruin her very reputation if the thing survived long enough to tell the tale of it's mother.

The mare had been with an utter lack of response, staring, shocked that the foal was alive. It was a male, the coat a blinding blood bay and white tobiano. She had to admit to herself, the thing was beautiful but it was an abomination! Tears had even welled in the harsh mare's yellowed eyes, threatening to pour over as she pondered on what to do. Finally deciding on just abandoning it and not killing it, hoping somewhere, deep within her rough exterior that another mare would find the foal and raise it to be her own, and never had to bother with the mistake again. The deed was done, she hadn't had to deal with the blood of innocence on her mind, but a guilt formed that she had never rid after years of remorse and regret.

The small mare snapped out of her thoughts, reality flooding back with a vengeance. Her heart was aching with remorse; regret of what she had done when she was merely a young filly. It had affected her life so much, she built her entire life on the mistake, nightmares of the ordeal still ruined her sleep to this day, even though it was four years ago she had abandoned her baby for her own selfish desire to keep her reputation and loyalty to her breed.

Whipcord lay still as she blinked, looking away from the stallion momentarily, caught up in the past. The memory pained her so, she was yearning to cry out her secret to someone, to admit her horrible deed. The guilt she was carrying was eating her alive, her heart was aching for the abomination she had abandoned so long ago.

and

He had finally came to give into suicidal urges; to succumb to the horrid sea's wrath unstintingly and rid the earth of his pathetic existence. He had nobody to love, not a single soul to return love or stop him from succumbing to the inviting, dark and thrashing sea; to rid him of such terribly weak thoughts of entering the past life as a way out of life. He had no one, he was no one. Just a simple thing lost in the battle of life, life was winning and he was surrendering. Neither his dam or adopted dam yearned to seek him out, he the same. But a feeling, a yearn that pricked at his heart repeatedly as the days wore endlessly on; it was to find his unloving mother and abandoning adopted one. But he merely shoved the feeling down into the deepest crevice possible until it could stay down no longer; feelings would ravage his mind with horrid thoughts of hopelessness, anger and sadness. They overwhelmed the large stallion, overtaking his mind and giving in return thoughts of death and how bitter sweet death would be. However he had been like this many times; some on the tops of mountains with sharp, deathly rocks below or on the banks of overflowing, speeding and surging rivers. Now was different. On the top of an overhang, lightning leaping and yearning to touch the earth, to set the fields of lush green on fire; to ravage the earth of life. The sea was surging, foaming and deathly waves beat into the bottom of the overhang with unsettling and and mind imploding force. None of this bothered the mutt, he was settled deep int he depths of his thoughts, wondering if he should succumb to the endless thought of death; it's name ringing in his ears with bittersweet force.

This time was all the same as the last, he came to overpower his thoughts, thunder rumbling deep to his core. It all came to fast, he tried to remove his thick body from the breaking overhang, but alas! The crumbling earth was thinning to fast! Before the stallion knew it, he felt no earth, merely air, body flailing, the wind stinging his eyes. He managed to turn in the air, hooves downward as he fell; mane beginning hurt as the wind slapped it mercilessly against his hide.

And then he felt the cold sea surround his large body, hitting him with a stinging malice. Maybe it was time to give up anyway; time to surrender to life. God was giving him a sign, it was time to give up. However, heart heaving with never ending thuds, he began to churn strong, lengthy and sturdy legs, his head beginning to surface. He got a ways before the sea washed over him; water flowing into his nostrils with a heavy unsettling pain. Eyes stung with salt, he felt warm tears dropping into the ocean as they mixed with the cold, stinging rain. He glanced up to the sky; the angry, black sky with the occasional streaks of electricity. Thunder rumbled as he continued to churn, however his thick body was beginning to tire. Nevertheless, he was too thickheaded to merely give up, to suffer the humiliation of succumbing to the ocean he had lived by all his meaningless life. He swam in these oceans, he played and came to them for peace. Now, it was showing him an utterly different side; trying to drown him into the murky depths. But he would not let it win! He was worthy of beating it, he believed in himself for the moment.

After hours of churning and swallowing gallons of water, eyes dry and pained, he thought he felt something brush against tired legs. What was that? He continued, his energy drained. Was that land? Hope sparked within, spreading through his entire body. He reached, hoping with all his might that it was land and not a predator. Alas! Luck was beginning to turn! He had struck land! A newly found burst of adrenaline racked his large body as he began to go through the raging surf with hope. He was going to make it! He wasn't a goner, a pathetic weak mortal that gave up against the sea. He was beating it! He had beat it!

Heaving his dead weight body up onto the sand, he walked far enough until he could go no further, barely making it far away enough so the tide would not take him into the overbearingly menacing sea; collapsing with a thud, eyelids fluttering as he blacked out, the thunder rumbling in the distance, he had made it through the storm and the raging ocean!

Modifiers: Please use the basic information about each character given above to flesh them out a bit more. Add more to their personality, give them a small history if you would like, tell us their likes and dislikes, etc. Please be creative!

[/size][/font][/blockquote][/blockquote] will finish later.

[nysa]

Trying Out For:Morana Thanatos
Reason:Why shouldn't you choose me?

Sample Roleplay:Morana Thanatos walked down a street of Port Lucia. Her raven black hair rocked back and forth, held together in a hair tie. People stopped and looked at her dark blue short sleeved shirt, blue jeans, and black, leather purse. Her lips,covered in red lip stick glistened in the sun, and her blue eye shadow glittered. Her black heels clicked against the pavement, each step filled with purpose.
Morana weaved her way through crowds of people, stopping in front a flat over tailor shop. She slid her purse off her shoulder, opening it with a soft click. She pushed back all sorts of items.A gun, makeup,and all sorts of garbage. She clicked it close, a silver key in her hand. She fiddled with the key, trying to put it in until she turned it and the door swung open. The room was filled with darkness until she flicked a few switches and the room was brightened. The room was painted a dark blue, making the room appear dark. A counter was in the far back of the room, tables and chairs were all over the place, sewing machines on top. There was another room behind the counter,all kinds of cloths,and half made clothes were there. In the room there was a upstairs, where she and her brother slept. She sighed slightly, a look of disdain set on her face.
Morana walked over to the smaller room, called the cloth room. Her stone gray eyes scanned each fabric, her long fingers stroked fabric here and there. She finally took hold of a hot pink silk,striding to one of the tables. She started working, concentrating. The door opened and closed a few times, workers. Soon, the soft hum of sewing machine filled the room, and the soft talk of requests for clothes. After a few hours she stood back to view her creation. A hot pink silk dress stood in front of her. Diamonds were sown around the collar, and sparkles covered the dress.
The soft click of the door opening meant a costumer had entered. Morana strode over, tape measure in hand."Oh, hello. I would like a black silk dress." The girl said, looking rather nervous.
"Of course. Let me just measure you." She said, in a dull voice. She unraveled the tape measure, measuring the girl's height and width. Once it was confirmed she wrote on a clipboard:Coffin:Length:5'1" Width: 4 in.Color:Black.Fabric:Silk.There were similar things above it, but all about coffins.
"What's that?"The girl asked, snatching a glance at the clipboard.Morana's lip curled, the look of disdain still on her face.
"None of your business girl."She snapped, turning around and striding away into the cloth room.This is how the day went on,Morana making clothes, and writing down coffins. Around one pm her brother came down, helping the other workers. At 5 everyone left, her brother went upstairs, but she didn't follow along. Morana took off her heels, and put on a pair of black sneakers. She walked to the door, picking up her purse on the way out. She stepped outside, the chilly night air greeted her. She looked around, and walked across the street where a man completely in black waited for her.
When Morana reached him she bowed and when the man nodded she rose back up. "Here it is, father. All the people's coffins of this week."She said, her voice sounding pleased. The man nodded, and took the paper from her hands. He disappeared in a split second. She sighed, her hands shoved in her pockets. She started walking down the sidewalk, passing some couples. She turned into an alleyway, her eyes fixed to nothing on the other end, but what Morana saw was a dead soul. The soul widened her eyes as she saw her and tried to get away, but Morana took the soul's hand."See that building?"She said, pointing to an old building.Go inside there, and my father will escort you to your family." The soul smiled, and walked over to the building, disappearing inside.
Morana walked on, escorting souls here and there. While others would feel so sorry for the souls she didn't. She was too used to this, and thought it wasn't something to be sad about since everyone dies, but she loves the realm of the living. Why? Morana wants to know how everything so exciting for them, and how they get sad by the simplest things. Secretly, she wishes she was like them, so care free. Morana walked on,seeming like she could walk forever.
A cop car stopped beside her, and a muscular man leaned out the window."What are you doing miss?" The cop asked, grinning."None of your business."Morana hissed, continuing to walk. The cop shrugged and kept driving. She escorted one more soul before heading back to the shop. She took off her shoes, before dragging herself up the stairs. She took off her clothes and put on black pajamas before sliding into her own bed, and finally fell asleep despite the snores of her brother across the room.

Modifiers:
Personality:Morana is a cold, serious "person", and is the opposite of her brother. She may be cold to other people, but she loves the realm of the living, and secretly, wants to be like them, so care free. Her fashion is always up-date, considering she works at a tailor shop. She loves to please her father, and wishes she could see him more often. Morana also doesn't see whats the big deal of dying, and thinks people cry over the simplest things. She is almost never amused, and if someone really makes her amused she will be nicer to that person. She carries a gun around incase of vampires, and speaking of vampires she hates them. Morana thinks they should've went to her father, and thinks it's unfair. She hopes to kill every last one of them.

Likes:
-The realm of the living.
-To please her father.
-Fashion.

Dislikes:
-Vampires
-When humans cry
-People who get into her business

Wishes:
-To be like humans
-To see her father more often
-She could be care free

History:Morana was born with her twin brother in her father's realm, The Beyond. They slowly grew up there,not aging as fast as others. She was the one that was locked up all the time in her room. She was home schooled by her father, but was mostly doing nothing because her father was almost always busy. When she looked old enough to be in high school her father let her go to one in Italy. She slowly became the "popular girl,"but never had a boyfriend. She was the one to get people pissed off, and also the one to almost never get detention. She got good grades, and when she was supposed to go to collage her father taught her all that he knew. When he sent them to Paleo Island she was torn apart, but wanted to make her father proud. He got them a job at a tailor shop, so she could get the coffins length and width to her father. He also said they had to escort dead souls to him, and Morana really wanted to make him proud.

Image:http://i133.photobucket.com/albums/q69/St_Tuesday/Aurora_by_larafairie.jpg

[zoozoo316]

G- its sof; I love your "audition!"

[*LUNA!]

Trying Out For: Death and all his glory.
Reason: Because I am amazing, and V.elocity loves me! No, because I am: active, friendly, 1000+ word post'er, deticated, amazing -cough- Veo loves me! -cough-
Sample Roleplay: [This is a character I am creating later, named Arielle Crane.]

Arielle Crane

Note: This isn't finished. Don't steal because its mines. This is a character for this site only, named Arielle Crane. She is a bit of a complicated being, but give her a chance. Trying out for Death btw.

“Witches aren’t always evil, Kings not always brave, Vampires don’t always suck blood. It’s just usually how things are.” She thought with a smile at herself. “And a slayer of all three doesn’t have to be a man.” Her smiled turned to a smirk, and a quick toss of her blonde curls. The thin Native woman strode down the streets, bare feet making a soft slurr sound on the brick road. A soft smiled as fashioned to her mask of a face, an ugly grey dress clinged to her body. The old, streached fabric wrinkled into flaps of un-needed fabric. The dress was built for a “woman made to bear children” in which, Arielle was not. A thin figure she was, however the bony body that she owned as slightly attractive in her way. The dress bore the ugly color of grey mixed with dirt, and something dark that reeked of a foul odor, but it didn’t bother Arielle, she had suffered worse. Shop keepers gave her an odd look as she walked briskly down the streets, no need for her hand on her sword, or a threatening glare. No body was every safe, Arielle knew this and felt better when she was in some sort of danger. I suppose you could say she is an action junky. It’s probably true, even though Arielle wouldn’t like to put it that way. Despite the face that this city was her home, she hated it. No home should feel so cold and resentful. A home in a bitter place, and a bitter standard of love. No, not love. Arielle knew of the spies that followed her, she had killed a few, but they were just as fast and well armed as she. Years passed before she was finally able to catch one, and prove her suspicious. A masked man. Handsome, but crude. He had died easily. That’s the thing about spies, their sneaky, good at hiding but easily killed once figured out. Spies took time, unlike enemies that faced her in the light, they died easily.

Arielle knew of many warriors, many that dared face her and others that crawled in the darkness. She had a name for these warriors that crawled, “scum.” A laugh rolled from her lips. She stopped turned around quickly, strangers stared at her while her back was turned but when she turned they pretended they weren’t. “You’ll have to get better at hiding your curiosity. You know, curiosity killed the cat.” Another smirked lined her face. Arielle has plans for today, plans she had made years ago. They were finally being brewed, checked twice, and fixed. Now finally, the day had come for Arielle to make her move, and change what a worthless life she had. Protecting most from the seldom horrors of vampires and witches, even natives if they pose a real threat. What was that life, really? Nothing, meant nothing to anyone. Whom was she saving? Mostly herself, vampires and other devious creatures had a thing for coming after her. Ever since she was little, her bad luck seemed to bring out the best in all monsters as they charged at her with weapons raised. Nobody ever said anything about Arielle being a good slayer, even though she was decent. Nobody was ever to acknowledge that she had preformed the deeds of protection. Didn’t matter, nobodies life was on the lines but hers. Danger seemed to have a nose for her flesh, seemed to crave her scream. Arielle couldn’t say she liked her life style, none feared her, but none really enjoyed her company. This annoyed her. Arielle isn’t the type to be serious, usually one to joke or use her knowledge of sarcasm, yet she couldn’t figure out what others fancied.

“People problems?” Arielle laughed. She used to think so, but now it just seemed like her luck was worst than she thought. Maybe she wasn’t being heard. Maybe she was a false collection of pixels, floating in the unknown. Nobody really seemed to acknowledge her, so maybe she was just a pixel piece. Arielle looked around her. Men, women and children bustled around the large market place without a look at her. Arielle liked to be ignored in some since. It helped her stay invisible to the unknowing eye. Something she was grateful for. Never would she have lived in silence if her crimes had been known to the general public. Arielle was already an out-cast, alone and not particularly in despair. It didn’t bother her what others thought. Although, she should have at least desired interaction with others? A man possibly? No, what man would ever want such an uneven personality, a female in which didn’t know how she felt half the time, and was stuck in another world the other half of her time. No man would waste time on a female that could give so little. No family would ever be between her and a man, she was barren. Unworthy of baring children, even a blessing would not be able to give her what she would desire someday. Children weren’t a desire for her right now. It didn’t really bother her that other humans didn’t want to spend a minute or two with her, leaving her a social wreak and rather nervous around most.

Arielle picked up her pace. A dark horse stood on the outer side of the gate, a hooded figure guided the large black Frisian mare to a halt. “Miss?” He hissed. “Your horse, your bloody horse is ready. Take her quick, before the damn thing gets any ideas.” The hooded figure hastily threw her the reins before darting out of sight. The poor man, hadn’t even collected his gold. That’s alright, probably off to commit some sort of crime. She looked down at her body, a wonder he didn’t try to commit a crime against her. She smiled, “I guess my reputation has gained a few hard-ass points.” Another smiled creeped up the side of her face. The horse shifted uneasily before bounding off its back hooves in a small rear. “Easy Eden. Easy girl. Today is the day Eden. Today we change our lives and forever ride out away from here.” She cooed. Like her, Eden had developed a hate for this town. Over the three years she had stayed her, Arielle had been brewing and planning. Eden had yet to see the day that her owner pushed her plans into motion. The mare seemed to calm a bit. Her eyes darted her and there, watching for any movement that might possibly cause a threat to her. A soft whinny filled the air, the mare snorted, her nostrils flare in protest as Arielle went for her back. “None of that, Eden.” She hastily whipped the reins over the mares head, hoping on her back. The summer heat had warmed the mares black pelt, a fresh line of sweat rolled down Arielle’s face.

The female sighed. Checking over herself quickly. A bag was swung over her shoulder, brown leather was slightly dried but contained food and water for her and the Eden for there six day journey following the stars. A bow and arrow rested upon her back, arrows freshly sharpened and thirsty for any sign of blood. A sword dangled from her thin waist, and two daggers lay at her disposal. The grey dress made a perfect drape over her legs, like planned. The desert heat would surely scorch her skin, but the dress was thick and had extra fabric, used for the specific propose of desert travel. She reached to check for her things, before her thoughts drifted. The mare shook nervously beneath her. Arielle began to have second thoughts of her plans. She wasn’t running way from her problems, you see this was all part of her plan. A new city every three years, to minimize the amount of assassins that came after her. She was an assassin herself, one of vampires and werewolves that would charge after her, demanding her head. Yet no city is able to hold her for more than three years, no crime rate is to low, they always find a way of getting to her. Eden knew this, the seven year old mare had traveled with her for her fifth and sixth city. She was broken when three, and Arielle cared for her. Arielle looked down at the mare, realizing her neglect towards the mare. She hadn’t seen her, or cared for her in a couple weeks now, more than enough to make the mare more skittish that usual. She reached down to give the mare a loving pat, before opening her mouth. “Oh, Eden. I’m sorry for these last weeks. I haven’t seen a enemy and weeks, I knew it was to dangerous to see you. Not unless we had finalized our plans for moving out.” Arielle said, a slight hint of sadness tinted her words. Arielle knew that a new start would be nice, but as soon as they were there for a year, things would start back up again, slowly at first but quick enough.

Eden nickered quietly, a soft sign of forgiveness before starting out at a rather excited walk. A small group of houses and gardens surrounded the village, Arielle turned down the path towards the houses. She quickly grabbed at her hood, cloaking her face before entering the remaining stretches of the village. The glares of shop keepers, children, and other Newcomers bounced of her back, hitting her like bullets.

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Modifiers: Edit this later? <3