We're Bad Guys! It's What We Do // District Two

enchantress thanks xo

ok here's my real app:

Username: ya girl zo
Character Desired: enchantress
Description or Ideas: so i've been meaning to do something cool with amberly (excuse her ratchet cb bio) for yoinks now and my plan was to have her basically become her dead twin sister hedvig at random spurts of time, like she's absorbed the soul of her twin or something dead cool and poetic and then i was lying in bed at like 2am and had a brainwave!!! so one minute she's amberly in the corner chewing on her hair and the next minute she walks in like -throws a table at the nearest man- -takes high heels off and hurls it through a window- -decks the bitch next to her right in the face- and blacks out, waking up as amber again idk idk!!! somethin like that???
Other: love me

Username: onyx bby
Character Desired: diablo
Description or Ideas: okay so when he was a kid, diablo was selected to be part of a research experiment about ways to breed sort of 'super-careers' that one day after inevitably becoming victors could join the peacekeepers. the experiments contained all sorts of tests on reflexes, sleep patterns, muscle and bone composition etc. the experiment failed but as a result of the trauma of it, diablo and the other kids found that they could survive without sleep for days on end, had a new instilled sense of recklessness (perhaps has a result of schizophrenic symptoms from electric shocks) and, because of his mental condition, a heightened resistance to pain. diablo didn't return back to his parents but ran with this gang of kids, enjoying destroying things as vengeance for what was done to him and especially setting things on fire. he didn't feel pain from his burns, but loved the way their scars rippled his skin. basically he isn't interested in fighting, only in destruction and revenge. 
Other: forgive me

Username:Charade
Character Desired: El Diablo
Description or Ideas:
Uhm, so basically I view this character as being a pyro. He's kind of directionless except when he's lighting things on fire. Anti-social, brooding, doesn't really care what happens to anybody else as long as he gets to do what he wants; except that he does care, deep down he has a conscience, a moral compass, but its just buried so far he has trouble processing strong emotions when he does feel them, see below for how  an idea of how I'd write him. 
--

"I wanted to help them. I did. But I couldn't stop staring." Those were the words uttered by the boy when the peacekeepers questioned him. When the hospital staff questioned him. Before long, everyone had heard about he tragedy. A home burned down in the middle of the night. A father, a mother, and their daughter burned alive while their son sat outside, frozen in horror instead of running to get help. They'd never know that he set the fire himself, not to kill them, but because he had always loved the fire looked and just wanted to see a bigger one. He hadn't wanted them to die. He just couldn't help himself. He couldn't help being bounced from group home to group home because the other kids belonging kept turning up missing, found in ashes, little bonfires that seemed to crop up in the backyard. In the alleyways.
--
"Re-light the candles. You don't appreciate her like I do!" he snarled angrily, grabbing the other kid by the collar and shoving him against the wall. "The dance she does." he said in a softer tone before his eyes hardened again. "Give me the lighter." he said quietly. The other boy squirmed. "Get off me man, those candles are supposed to last us the week." He slammed the boy against the wall. "GIVE ME THE LIGHTER." he roared. "Alright, alright jeez, it's in my pocket." he fumbled through the pocket and grabbed it, letting the other boy fall to to the ground. Freak, he heard him whisper.

Maybe he was. But he'd long since stopped caring about what people thought of him.

He found his way outside to the alley behind the house and flicked the lighter on with a heavy breath. The flame danced and moved his hand over it, back and forth, mesmerized by it, feeling his breathing became more evenly measured. Calmer. 

He was consumed by it.

But his palm passed too close and he hissed, drawing it back, the barest hint of scorched flesh tickling his nostrils. The most beautiful things are the deadliest, he reminded himself. The hotter the flame the more it hurt.


He sat down and brought the fire closer to his eyes. 

It was a price worth paying.

Other:
When you say feel free to apply for more than one spot, do you mean there will be more characters? or do you just mean feel free to apply for one of the other  characters above? Cause if I don't get this spot, I'd love to apply for someone else. Thanks!