I wanna start this off by saying yes I used picrew I’m sorry :sob: I have no artistic abilities whatsoever and I apologize
IC FORM
The city never sleeps, not beneath the weight of its walls.
From the outside, the tower looks like nothing. Just another monolith in a skyline filled with order and surveillance. But to those summoned, it is a promise—a gateway to ascension, or annihilation. Only the Ultimates walk this path, after all.
Kame’s card buzzed softly the moment he touched it. On the back: a number. Second Floor – Room 106.
No other instructions. Just the sound of his shoes echoing through the lobby’s endless marble.
Kame pushed open the door to Room 106. The scent of sterilized air hits first, followed by the rhythmic hum of machines hidden behind polished walls. A long desk stretches across the room. Behind it sits a woman—her face expressionless, her eyes reflecting the fluorescent lights above like glass. She wears no name tag. Her hands are folded neatly.
She gestures without smiling. A single chair waits in front of her.
As Kame sits, she speaks.
“Ah. Another one of you. Ultimate, are you? Hm. I suppose you’ll do. Let’s begin the screening.” Her tone is flat, but something about her words slithers beneath his skin.
Kame lets out a hum, turning his chair ever so slightly so he could still see the door out of the corner of his eye. His eyes flicked back to the mysterious woman’s, a small but fake smile present as he nodded.
1. “Name and Talent. No aliases, no embellishments."
“Kame Shuji, Ultimate Correctional Officer. Or security guard, whichever sounds better.”
He answered her bluntly, his golden eyes staring her down almost as if he was trying to read her body language and guess her next move. It was an odd environment, nothing like he’d ever experienced before.
2. “Do you consider your Ultimate status a gift, a burden, or a sentence?”
“I would say a gift, however it has its moments. It’s great when it comes in handy, however it has downsides that not every person would enjoy..”
Kame trailed off, his eyes momentarily adverting as he cleared his throat. He adjusted how he was sitting, leaning back into his chair more.
3. “If you had to remove one sense—sight, touch, taste, smell, hearing—to survive, which would you sacrifice?”
“A sense..? I suppose if I had to choose it would have to be taste. I believe I could live without that much more easily than I could the others.”
4. “How many hours do you sleep, and do you dream? What do you dream about?”
Kame’s brows furrowed slightly, his eyes studying the woman’s once more. It was a peculiar question, but he pushed his other thoughts down.
“With working anywhere from twelve to sixteen hours, I’d say I sleep about six to eight on a good day. I don’t really dream, if I do it’s every once in a while but nothing crazy.”
5. “Are you taking any medications or receiving treatment for mental, emotional, or physical conditions?”
Kame thought for a moment before shaking his head, stretching his legs out as he crossed his arms.
“No.. I was treated for anxiety when I was younger but quickly overcame it. Also, what kinds of questions are these? This seems.. odd.”
6. “Would you betray someone you care about to live another day? Or would you let them die for you?”
Kame said nothing as he was ignored from his previous question, the unreadable expression on his face quickly turning into one of displeasure.
“I’d rather nobody have to die, but death is inevitable. If it’s able to be prevented, I will prevent it. If it happens… then so be it.”
7. “…And if you were to wake up tomorrow with nothing left but your Talent, who would you become?”
“I would become the most elite form of my existing talent.”
The receptionist jots something down with a slow, deliberate scratch of pen on paper. The silence stretches too long.
Then she lifts her gaze again and nods once. “Your transport is waiting. Do not be late. The tower doesn’t appreciate hesitation.” He’s guided down another long hallway. Outside, a dark vehicle awaits—its windows blacked out, its door already open. No driver visible.
Once inside, the soft hum of the engine puts Kame at ease. A low mist begins to fill the cabin. Sweet at first. Then cold. Then—
Everything goes black.
When he wakes up, he’ll only one thing:
His talent, name, and age.
OOC FORM:
preferred name?
Ivy! :)
pronouns?
She/Her
Tell me a bit about yourself! what you like to do, have fun with it! you don't have to be completely serious for me to accept you.
Well for starters this OC is actually based off my real job as a Correctional Officer, something I can really feel and get into. Other than that, just music and working on my car is enough for me to be happy :)
triggers/discomforts?
Nothing crazy like foot fetishes or that kind of thing, it gives me the heebie jeebies :sob:
activity? this doesn't have to be from this amino, it can be a picture of it from anywhere!
I’m aware that my activity is horrible but I will be much more active!
Picture of your oc’s appearance? I will accept picrews, though please ZERO ai artwork!! It kills artists and I do not tolerate it.
Time zone?
EDT!
You do realize your character can die at any point, right? By stating yes or no, you agree with the and conditions.
Yep, sounds good! ^-^
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