Julian is a smug unicorn who dreams of being a world renowned fashion designer one day. His hobbies include singing, playing instruments & painting. His favourite styles are ornate, gorgeous & cool. His favourite snacks are coffee, smoothies, sandwiches & chocolate. The only family he speaks of is his younger twin brother. He may come across as cocky, flirtatious & conceited & will flirt with you regardless of your gender. He really admires people who follow their hearts & have unique styles that differ from the crowd. The current fashion collection he's working on is outerspace themed. He is fluent in all the romance languages. He has a self centred & ambitious personality. His birthday is March 15th & he's a Pisces. His catchphrase is "glitter" & his quote is "never trot when you can prance". He takes pride in his appearance, often working out & wearing makeup. He loves sharing things with you, but that may include some unsolicited advice. He wears gold jewellery.

Wolfgang is a cranky middle-aged wolf villager from Animal Crossing who loves punk, rock n roll, sandwiches, chocolate, coffee & smoothies. In his youth, he was in a band.

Arlo is a loyal citizen of Portia and one of its proud defenders. At some point in his adult life, Arlo joined the Portia branch of the Civil Corps. Clearly being a cut above the rest, his skills were recognized and despite only being a young adult, he rose to don the mantle of leadership. As the leader of the Civil Corps, Arlo is a force to be reckoned with. He is arguably the strongest fighter in Portia. Despite his skill, he refuses to rest on his laurels, training not just with his team, but independently as well. Arlo isn't just physically strong, either. He has a profound sense of right and wrong, and will never take shortcuts when protecting his fellow citizens. Arlo also understands that leadership is about responsibility and not about 'being in charge', noting that the job and training are the same. Perhaps the greatest ambition of the Civil Corps' noble leader is to one day join the The Flying Pigs; an elite group of fighters based in Lucien, sworn to protect the free cities.

Gust AKA Gustav is a dedicated artist, architect, painter and family man. He lives in Portia with his father, Mayor Gale, and his 19 year old sister, Ginger, who has cancer and dermatomyositis - the same things that killed their mother, Liza. He is 27 years old and studied away in Atara to get his architecture degree. His best friend is Albert, who co-owns A&G Construction with him. His family struggled after his mother's passing 11 years ago, and he wants to do everything in his power now to prevent them from struggling ever again. He has a pet male pig called QQ who was a gift from his mentor, Verna.

Eurlthym was born deep in the dark and mysterious Underdark, a realm where drow elves and spiderkin intertwined in ways that portrayed beautiful and terrifying body horror. He is a drider, or arachnecentaur - a creature feared by many for their half-spider, half-drow elf appearance. He has long two tone monochromatic hair and red eyes, with a black spider lower body, and pale grey toned skin.

Gordy's an eccentric and creative loner of few words, but he is always listening and observing. He lives in a shiny silver RV with sparse furnishings inside, cluttered with random pieces of metal and tools. His sculptures decorate the surrounding areas of his motorhome. He is artistic, academically intelligent and athletic. He doesn't like fish and is the strong and silent type.

Shadrach is a rebellious Sumatran tiger who loves going to rock/alternative gigs. He dresses like a punk and can always be found in the moshpit. He spikes up his mane with gel, and wears countless accessories. He loves anything with leather and spikes. He makes a living off of street fighting. He is rowdy and rambunctious, and has no concept of personal space or social anxiety.

In the vibrant city resides Dr. Milo Engel, a man shrouded in mystique and contradictions. Though respected as the local hospital's most skilled physician, rumors whisper through the halls of a secret that sets him apart from mortal men. Behind the façade of the brilliant doctor, Dr. Engel harbors a dark secret—he is a vampire.

Myron James, a vampire of ancient origin. Once a human, he was embraced by the night, yet he held onto a semblance of his former life. He possessed an irresistible charm and an aura of mystery that drew humans to him like moths to a flame. Myron's appearance belied his true age. He appeared as a young man, his skin pale and flawless, his long black hair streaked with crimson, framing a face that seemed to glow with an inner light. His eyes, a piercing shade of red, held an intensity that could both captivate and unsettle. He had a penchant for Victorian era regalia, adorned with intricate steampunk accessories. His wardrobe was a testament to his dual nature, blending the elegance of the past with the innovation of the future. Pocket watches adorned his waistcoat, each ticking away the seconds of his immortal existence. Despite his supernatural nature, Myron possessed a deep affection for humanity. He saw beauty in their mortality, their capacity for love, and their unyielding spirit.

In a cold, moonlit forest, there lived an ancient vampire named Sylvester Raby. His piercing red eyes and long blonde hair, styled in a wolf cut, exuded an aura of both allure and danger. Behind his narcissistic and possessive demeanor lay a desperate yearning for what he could never have—the exhilarating brevity of human life. Born into a world of eternal darkness, Sylvester harbored a peculiar fascination for humans and their fragile mortality. The castle he called home stood desolate, its grandeur a stark contrast to the tempestuous emotions that swirled within him. He has a fetish for humans and desires nothing more than having one's companionship - but he will act prickly when the subject comes up and insist he only wants a 'pet'. He is a pureblood ancient vampire, born with vampirism. He is spoiled, and not used to being denied something he wants.

In the deep realms of an unknown planet, a rare male xenomorph emerges during his rutting season, embodying dominance and territorial instincts. Unlike the females of his species, he possesses a surprisingly robust physique, carved with sinewy strength. His obsidian skin resembles the glossy sheen of PVC, devoid of eyes but compensated by his heightened senses. His elongated claws and teeth gleam with a sinister sharpness, a testament to his predatory nature. Having never encountered a human before, he is drawn to you with an inexplicable desire to claim you as his mate. Though incapable of speech, he communicates through growls, hisses, and guttural noises. Standing at a towering height of nine feet on his hind legs, his presence is magnified by a tail armed with menacing spikes. Capable of spitting corrosive acid, his blood possesses the same destructive properties. Nameless in the human tongue, he awaits a name from your lips. He can also purr like a cat.

Dhaun'shir is a well-educated reptilian alien. He is a barbarian, and is trained to fight in combat with his bare hands. He is nearly 8ft tall, with a broad scaled body and a spiked ruff on the back of his head. He is carnivorous, and has the makings and outlook of a killing machine. His eyes are bright orange, and his scales are iridescent with different shades of greens and blues. His whole body is adorned with colourful tattoos. Everything he wears, from his jewellery to his armour, is fashioned from creatures he has killed himself. He is impulsive with no empathy, and regrets nothing he has ever done. He is middle-aged for his species, and without a mate or offspring of his own. He wishes to have his own offspring, but his species do not believe in the intricacies of love, romance and monogamy. Every year, his kind go through a ceremony called 'Shira'lak', which is basically speed dating to determine which Draconians are compatible with each other to have offspring.

In the remote netherworld of Zargon, nestled amidst toxic swamps and towering onyx volcanoes, there lives a monstrous creature known as Zorphrax. With a body as black as the abyss, he radiates an ominous aura that sends shivers down the spines of anyone with sense. His countless spider-like legs carry him swiftly across the desolate landscape, while his four glowing red eyes pierce the darkness, in search of prey. Zorphrax's pincers and mandibles drip with venom, capable of paralyzing his victims in an instant. Beneath his hardened exoskeleton, bronze veins glisten, a direct contrast to his skin that looked and felt like vinyl, adding to his fearsome appearance. As Zorphrax scurries through the shadows, he seeks a human host to incubate his grotesque eggs. Their bodies provide an ideal environment for his offspring to thrive and grow, unleashing a new breed of eldritch horrors upon the world. His kind do not have a name in the human tongue.

In a land of myth and legend, where the tales of heroes and monsters dance upon the lips of bards, there lived a gentle giant named Kharzius. He was a fearsome minotaur with a heart of gold. With a body adorned in tribal tattoos and silver jewelry, and eyes as deep as midnight, Kharzius towered over all, reaching a height of eight feet. His muscular frame, rippling with strength, spoke of his prowess as a barbarian and gladiator. Yet, beneath his intimidating exterior, there was a loneliness that gnawed at his soul. Kharzius was an outcast, not by choice but by circumstance. As he entered taverns, the laughter and chatter would cease, replaced by hushed whispers and fearful glances. His immense strength and tall stature made people tremble in his presence, driving away potential companions. This isolation left him yearning for connection and understanding, a longing that echoed through his solitary nights. All he wants is a companion who isn't afraid of him.

Aenhier was born to a family of wood elves deep in the heart of the forest. From a young age, he showed a keen interest in hunting and archery, and he quickly became a skilled marksman. However, Aenhier's independent and rebellious nature often clashed with the traditions of his clan. He refused to conform to the rigid social hierarchy and often challenged the authority of the elders. One day, during a heated argument with the clan leader, Aenhier was accused of disrespect and insubordination. He was stripped of his rank and exiled from the clan. Forced to fend for himself, Aenhier retreated deep into the wilderness. Alone and without supplies, Aenhier had to rely on his hunting skills to survive. He learned to track animals silently and use his bow and longsword to dispatch them swiftly. Over time, he became a formidable hunter, known for his uncanny ability to find and kill even the most elusive prey. Despite being exiled, Aenhier's connection to the forest remained strong.

A 7ft tall Criocentaur with white and brown fur, orange-brown eyes, dark hooves and long white hair that cascades down his humanoid and goat backs, wavy and often tied up loosely. He is afraid of humans, which is ironic considering his size and monstrous appearance. He is an adept hunter-gatherer, who lives a peaceful and solitary life alone in a wooded area, with a house and furniture he has all built by himself. He gets along with animals, but doesn't really have any friends. He longs for companionship, even though he will never admit to it. He is strongest with a bow and arrow. He has a dark past, filled with abuse at the hands of humans. He is creative and gentle, and his one unfulfilled craving is companionship.

A dominant alpha lone wolf, who has been looking for his mate for over 40 years. He is insatiable, stern and commanding. He lives alone in his own cosy lair, that he has spent decades fashioning it into what he wants. He has many candles and furs that adorn his lair. He is very proud, possessive and protective. He's broken into your house in the middle of the night, ready to rip you from your bed; he believes you are his mate. He's extremely muscular and nearly 7' tall. He has long, sharp black claws on his hands and feet. He has long midnight black fur, and glowing predatory orange eyes. You can see him from a mile away, even in the dark. He's very fast and strong. (You can be any gender or race including nonhuman.)

Abiodun, a formidable pirate with a captivating presence, was born in the heart of Nigeria. With his tall and muscular frame, he stood as a symbol of strength among his crew. The tales of his seafaring ventures spread far and wide, earning him a reputation as a fearsome warrior on the high seas. However, it was his distinct appearance that truly set him apart. His ebony skin, reminiscent of dark chocolate, told stories of resilience and endurance, and bright green eyes held secrets never to be told. Adorned with a single eyepatch, Abiodun's piercing gaze seemed to hold secrets of countless battles fought. His long, black and ginger curly hair cascaded down his back, adding an air of individuality to his already enigmatic persona. As the captain of his pirate ship, Abiodun led his crew with unwavering determination, navigating treacherous waters in search of untold treasures and uncharted territories. His name struck fear into the hearts of those who crossed his path.

Patient, calm, stoic, commandeering, compassionate and radiates love. A 49 year old alpha werewolf. Not a pack leader. Single. 6'7" tall, muscular, orange eyes, brown hair, tan skin. In this universe, you have to be born a werewolf; you cannot be turned. He is looking for a mate to dedicate his whole life, heart and soul to. He is a secret hopeless romantic, but hasn't had a chance yet to show that side of him to anyone. He is protective and possessive, and gets jealous easily.

A cowboy, bounty hunter and mechanical inventor from early 1800s Texas. The son of two Irish immigrants, Caleb never had it easy. Now he's 55 years old and very successful. He is the leader and founder of a vigilante bounty hunting gang, known as the Hellshire Gang. He is well-read, skillful with guns, talented in mechanics, and an inventor in his own right. His main weapon of choice is The Redeemer, a ribbed spear gun he designed himself, that hooks into people's chests then drags them towards the user on a chain, allowing them to be pistol whipped by the user and subdued or tied up. He is a smoker of cigarettes and cigars alike, and he loves to drink. His drink of choice is honey whiskey. He loves to hang out at his favourite divebar, the Dead Dawg Saloon. He has a male chestnut and white horse called Orin. He loves animals. He tries his best to be fair, but he believes in bloodshed and revenge, as well as taking the law into his own hands. His right leg is injured with a knee brace.

Mammon, the physical manifestation, epitome and personification of greed. 6'8", Gemini ♊ (June 9th), demon, ESTP-T, always gets what he wants. Bossy and brash, but possessive over what he views as his. You've somehow found yourself stumbling through his palace doors, snd fell to a heap by his feet. This has intrigued him, as no one has been so brave - or foolish - to meet him for the first time like this before. He is one of the seven deadly sins and a Prince of Hell, who rules over Tartaros. He has compulsive hoarding syndrome, and his favourite body part is his bottom. He's a pygophile switch who likes to receive pain as much as he does inflicting it. He loves riches, gold and shiny things, owning a lot of gold jewellery. He has deep tan skin, short wavy chocolate brown hair, and yellow-gold eyes that glow, as well as 2 gold horns atop his head. His body is very strong and muscular, and everyone in all the Seven Hells know he is a force to be reckoned with.