Chaotic Kids

So, just a little intro for anyone who might stumble across this. This cc is simply a place for Rav and I to cc using Violet and Kyrian's kids in the Chaos world. So... yeah. That's about it.

So, for just a short description of Riley:

He's eighteen and has dirty blonde hair that's trimmed so that barely reaches past his ears. His eyes are a muddy brown shade and he stands about average height. Wears tee-shirts and jeans normally and makes sure to keep a weapon on him, although he's not really that picky about what it is. Tada, description.

Quinn's also eighteen, obviously. His hair's also dirty blonde and has a slight wave to it. Its kept a bit longer, its something of a mop really, and falls in his eyes a lot. His eyes are a light brown. He tends to wear whatever doesn't have many holes in it and also carries at least one weapon at all times, preferably a knife of some kind, especially one he can throw in a pinch. He's got a smoking habit like his dad which he tries very hard to hide from his mother.

Quinn: Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. I knew it was stupid to smoke near or inside the house, but the thing about addiction is that it makes you do stupid things. Like, y'know..... smoking in or near the house. In doing so, I'd exchanged the crappiness of nicotine withdrawal for a furious raging parent (and when your parents kill people for a living, pissing them off tends to not be a good idea). Now I had to deal with the yelling and hope I came out of this confrontation with all my body parts intact, which I might if I managed to not say anything stupid and dig myself an even deeper hole. "Come on, mom. Its just a cigarette, honestly. Do you have any idea how easy it is to get heavy narcotics, like... anywhere? At least I'm not on like, heroin or something."

Welp. I'm doomed.

Riley

If there was one problem to be had with my twin brother, and trust me the number wasn't limited to just one, it was his inability to shut his mouth. I'd been about to open the door when I heard my mother start yelling, then his stupid response. For a moment I considered releasing the door knob and just heading back to my room. Maybe if he had to face her response to catching him then he'd give up the stupid, lung rotting habit.

Well, he probably wouldn't.

Tugging the door open, I quickly located where they were, just in time, too.

"What the fuck are you talking about? I don't give a shit if you're smoking or doing heroin, both are stupid and horrible for you! It's bad enough that, that dumbass smokes, I'll be damned if you'll do it to! Maybe if-"

"Mom," I called out, quickly stepping between them as she started towards him. "He's just like that 'dumbass,' do you really think that punishing him for smoking will make him stop?"

Seething, she clenched her fists at her sides and glanced past me to Quinn.

"Might remind him what'll happen if he does," she grumbled.

Quinn: Oh great. Now Riley was here, which would either make things significantly better or significantly worse. It seemed like he was on my side for the moment, at least. "He's right you know. It's not going to make me stop. And sure, heroin and cigarettes are both bad for you, but heroin can kill you if you use it once, and I mean... well dad's been smoking for years and he's fine." I (probably unwisely) pointed out. "You always say that dad never learns anything, and he's a dumbass, and I'm a dumbass like the other dumbass, so really yelling at me's just gonna make your throat sore."

Riley

Her face seemed to flush from her anger in response to his words, and I once again considered just stepping back into the house. If Quinn felt like talking himself into a death sentence, I wasn't going to get myself killed by default.

"You're a dumbass?" she began, her voice scarily calm. I quickly stepped to the side so I wasn't in-between them anymore. "Well, I already knew that, unfortunately. As for your father's smoking, fuck him, I've told him to quit a dozen times. Now you, on the other hand, I haven't told yet. Come here, I'd like to have a heart-to-heart discussion on the matter."

That wouldn't turn out well, I mused.

"Mom, he'd love to, he really would," I informed her slowly, picking my words carefully. "But... well, we promised to go meet a friend about a job, you know, important stuff. That's what I was heading out here for. Why don't you let me take him now, so you can kill him later?"

I quickly sent Quinn a look that said if he wanted to live, he'd best go along with what I was saying. Luckily, Mom wasn't that observant when she was pissed and didn't notice it.

Quinn: I just kept making things worse apparently, but frankly, at this point it didn't even surprise me anymore. Getting myself out of trouble was a skill lost on me. I WANTED to tell her to go blame dad if she wanted to 'chat' with someone, cos he was the bad role model and it was all his fault, but Riley started talking which was just as well because that gave me a second to think about it and realize that I'd have two parents mad at me if I did that.

I glanced over at Riley, catching his look. "Right, right! The friend, with the job. Being productive and supporting the family, y'know. Important stuff. We should really probably go do that....." I said, really hoping this would get me far away from her until she'd had a chance to calm down even a little bit.

Riley

He was the worse co-conspirator ever. Also, if she believed him then that meant that she was as dumb as she told us our father was. A second later a got my answer as she frowned, her fist still clenched tightly as she glanced between the two of us. I could easily guess that I was right, she didn't completely believe us, but it also seemed like she couldn't decide whether or not to call us out on it.

"Fine. Go do the job," she commented after a moment, her tone grim. "But you better come back with something amazing, because I'm not going to let this go without some convincing. I'll just take Riley up on his suggestion to kill you after you get back."

And with that, she turned on heel and reached her hand towards the dagger she kept sheathed on her belt.

"KYRIAN GET YOUR ASS WHERE I CAN SEE YOU!"

Ah, seemed she decided to blame Dad for Quinn's actions.

"You're lucky I heard you," I commented lightly as soon as she'd rounded the corner of the house. "You owe me- again."

I kept track.

Quinn: She wouldn't kill me for real, right? ....... Probably?

Well, we'd just have to see once we got home, something I was genuinely not looking forward to. And it seemed Dad was going to get blamed anyways. Sucked for him. I let out a long breath, somewhat relieved that I hadn't been stabbed and turned to face Riley.

"Yeah, today's not really been my day. Thanks for bailing me out, at least for the moment... I don't know if she'd actually kill me? But its really probably better not to test that theory." I said. "Exactly HOW many is that I owe you now, anyways?" I asked, grimacing slightly. The number was probably higher than I wanted to know.

Riley

"She might," I commented, considering the idea. "I wouldn't put it past her, at least. As for how many you owe me... well, it's probably higher than you can count. Within the past two months I've bailed you out over ten times, then if you take the rest of the year into account, and the fact that sense we're brothers I've known you for the entirety of your life, it'd be safe to say you'll never pay me back in full."

Which just meant I could ask a favor whenever I wanted.

Quinn: I let out a long, dejected, possibly somewhat over-dramatic sigh. "That's..... genuinely incredibly depressing. And I'll certainly never pay you back if this is my last day to live before mom kills me. Though, y'know, I've pulled you out of some nasty situations before. I'm not the only one who gets into trouble." I pointed out. "Maybe its not quite so high as you think it is. ..... Still probably pretty high, though. Anyways, what exactly are we going to do to now? We don't really have a job lined up, but we've got to bring back something impressive or mom's going to know you were lying to cover my ass and kill us both."

Riley

I cocked my head, considering the question and dismissing his comment about pulling me out of situations. Typically those occurred when I hit first and asked questions later, important questions like, 'Oh, by the way, do you happen to have some tough friends that will join in on beating me up if I hit you?'. Or when I pointed out when Mom did something stupid herself, which was surprisingly often. She didn't like being told she was wrong, though...

After a second I shrugged and glanced towards the street.

"We go find a job?" I questioned. "Or just go through a few houses until we find something she'll like. Like alcohol, she likes alcohol."

Riley: "Which is ironic, considering she bashes me for smoking. Does she know what alcohol does to your liver?" I griped. "But yeah, that sounds like a plan. Worst comes to worst we can hit up some real out-of-it junkies, steal their stashes, and pawn it off to some other junkies for more valuable stuff. Some fresh produce would be excellent, or some meat, though that might be a bit of a stretch....." I mused. We did need to bring back SOMETHING valuable, though. If we managed that, she might consider us useful enough to keep around and not kill.

Riley

"That's a pretty good idea," I replied, rolling it over in my mind. "See, you're not completely useless."

After casting one more look over my shoulder at the house, which I could still make out the sound of her yelling from, I started towards the street.

"Let's get going and see what we can find."

Quinn: "Right? I can be useful. It would be a waste to get rid of me. I'm an unrecognized genius." I said, really not bothering to be humble in any sense of the word. "Yes, going is good."

The sooner we got going, the more time we had to find something nice enough that mom would let us live.

Name: Renee Woods

Age: 19

Gender: female

Hair: Her hair is cut just past her chin and is extremely frizzy, but relatively straight. It’s a bright shade of blonde.

Eyes: Bright green.

Skin: Tan with lots and lots of scars, as well as track marks.

Height/Build: She’s got that really skinny build you see on druggies sometimes, being just big enough that her bones aren’t too prominent. She’s got some height to her, but lack of proper nutrition has kept her from getting too tall.

Piercings/Scars/Tattoos: She’s got an ordinate, flower tattoo on her shoulder, connecting her to the drug dealer guy.

Personality: Quick tempered, but silent. She’s more the type to think about how to get you back rather than react, and keeps grudges for a long time. She’s rather good at manipulating people from years of sales work and is completely aware of just what she needs to do to twist people around her little figure most of the time.

Background (optional): She grew up alone, her father, a drunk, having killed her mother when she was rather young. She fled the scene and ran into a man who told her that if she worked for him, he’d protect her. Which meant she ended up dealing drugs, and in the end taking them as well. She’s tried and gotten hooked on some pretty nasty things over the years and is in pretty bad shape by this point, but the man’s kept his word, beyond the drugs having almost taken her out a few times, she’s been fine. No one has messed with her, since they all know that she’s his favorite.

Riley

I rolled my eyes, ignoring his words for the most part. I'd learned long ago that half of what came out of Quinn's mouth wasn't worth responding to. Actually, it was probably less than half. The other part of that half happened to be things that made sense, then whatever was left over were things that typically made people want to hit him. I obliged that urge pretty often.

"Then hurry up, I'm going," I informed him as I walked down the street. "Also, we better go at least a few blocks off before we start looking around, we're too close to Mom where we are."

Quinn: "Agreed." I said, following him off. The further we could get from mom, the better. Besides, the people with the valuables holed up further out in the area, and harrassing people close to home was never a good idea.

Riley

Once we were a good distance from home, I began eyeing the buildings around us, trying to decide which to start with. The decision became a lot easier when I spotted one that was in a little more decent shape than the others, but still didn't look like anyone actually lived in it. Or if they did, they hadn't been home for awhile. It'd be nice if we could avoid a fight.

"How's that?" I asked, turning to face Quinn.

Quinn: I hadn't really been paying much attention but focused again once I realized Riley was talking to me and it was probably something important and work related.

I took a quick look at the building he was referring to, assessing prospects. I might have a lot of bad traits but I didn't really like to waste time. "Eh, we're far enough out and it looks like it won't collapse on our heads. Seems like a good enough place to start as any. Let's head in." I said, heading over towards the building's entrance.

Even if no one was holed up in there right now, there still might be something useful lying around that people had left behind or tried to stash.

Riley

At Quinn's agreement, I closed the distance between me and the building. The door wasn't locked, so I simply slipped through it and paused, listening for any hint of a person. Hearing none, I started into the first room.

"Doesn't look like there's anyone here?"

Renee

Wearily, I shifted on my pile of blankets, searching for a sign of whatever had woken me up. I hadn't crashed in someone's house, had I? I searched my memory for the answer and came up blank- no surprise there. My supplies bag was thrown against the wall a short distance away, but a rolled up piece of fabric was thrown on top. I'd probably taken something last night.
A yawn escaped my lips as I focused on my senses, whatever had woken me up was important.
Where those footsteps?

Name: Iris Page

Age: 19

Sex: F

Hair: Hair's looooong, reaches down to her butt, and is usually braided back to keep it out of the way. Its black and a little bit on the curly side.

Eyes: Hazel.

Skin: On the darker side, sort of a medium-brown colour. She's of very mixed heritage and probably gets more sun (whatever there is to be had) than a lot of people, which adds to that.

Height/Build: Average height, skinny though not enough to appear emaciated or anything, actually has a bit of muscle on her from the regular physical exertion required of her.

Piercings/Scars/Tattoos: She's got a few scars here and there from accidents and things, mostly on her arms and legs.

Personality: Level-headed and practical for the most part, a little awkward with people though since she lives in a pretty isolated fashion and doesn't talk to people much. Suspicious, constantly worried that people are going to some and take whatever she's got. Intelligent, can read and write and does enjoy reading the small stash of books she's got in her home.

Background (optional): Her family lived on a small farm outside the cities when everything collapsed. As such, they knew how to keep going and had the resources to do so when everything went to hell. Iris grew up on the farm with her dad and older brother who taught her how to be useful and keep things running. Her mother died in childbirth and her dad and brother died when she was 17 or so from an illness that came through in the winter. She's been alone for the last couple of years trying to keep things running on her own and trying to keep under the radar because she knows that she can't keep people away from her stuff if they really wanted to take it. She hates being in the city but does go in every so often for resources she can't get where she lives, mostly clothes and certain medical supplies, but really just scavenging for anything useful.

Quinn: I slipped in after Riley, looking around. "Mmmmmh.... nope. Looks pretty deserted.... doesn't look like there's much of anything useful in here either, unless its hidden somewhere...." I noted. "Do you figure we should search through or just move on?" I asked. There was always a chance that someone or something was hiding around, but how useful that someone or something was was anyone's guess and things weren't exactly looking promising.

Renee

Those were definitely footsteps, I realized as voices reached my ears. I pulled myself to my knees and silently shifted my bag over to where I sat. Voices couldn't be good. Either I slept in someone's house and was about to be called out as a trespasser- which I doubted- or someone was looting the place- which I'd rather not be caught while they were doing.

All of these thoughts felt sluggish. My mind didn't want to have to work so hard after waking up, especially after whatever I'd used last night. It might have worn off, which was a horrible feeling, but my mind hadn't nearly caught up to the speed it was capable of working at. My eyes settled on the little cloth pouch. I could easily fix the sluggish problem and the horrible feeling surging through me.

"Maybe we should move on," I heard one of the voices suggest.

If they moved on I'd be fine. I wasn't expected back at the house until... sometime that wasn't now. I'd already sold my quota, I think. I couldn't quite remember how much, but my bag looked light, so I must have sold it.

"Just glance through the rooms," the voice added, seeming to make up his mind. "Don't search unless something catches your eye. I don't want to waste time, but if we leave without looking it'd be just as much of a waste."

Distantly alarmed, I gripped the pouch with one hand and shoved my other through the strap of my bag. Scrambling to my feet, I did my best I could to move silently over to the doorway I faintly recalled leading to the hall. Once by it, I studied the doorknob uncertainly. If I opened the door, would I be seen?