Cyrus Annston
23 Years old
Chinese American
5'8 / 195lbs
River City Rogues
"The whitest Bruce Lee you'll ever see"
Short Tempered / blunt to a point / quick to action
Full sleeves of roses and thorns / tribal sun around his belly button
Eyebrow is pierced with two rings / ears are gauged
X shaped scar on his cheek normally hidden by his bandanna
Small round flask on his hip always filled with lemon water
Katanas on his back are a nod to his immense love for action and martial arts movies.
Scar on cheek: Self inflicted to pay homage to his scarred up heroes of old kung fu movies.
Roses are for his mother, both in her name and favorite flower.
Additional Info:
Gang outfit:
Alt Gang outfit:
Gang Outfit (No bandanna, arms down to see face):
Alt Gang outfit (No bandanna, arms down to see face):
Casual Outfit:
Alt Casual Outfit:
Riot Outfit:
Alt Riot Outfit:
Art Refs:
Art of Cyrus
Short Stories:
Written by Feather Weather:
23 Years old
Chinese American
5'8 / 195lbs
River City Rogues
"The whitest Bruce Lee you'll ever see"
Short Tempered / blunt to a point / quick to action
Full sleeves of roses and thorns / tribal sun around his belly button
Eyebrow is pierced with two rings / ears are gauged
X shaped scar on his cheek normally hidden by his bandanna
Small round flask on his hip always filled with lemon water
Katanas on his back are a nod to his immense love for action and martial arts movies.
Scar on cheek: Self inflicted to pay homage to his scarred up heroes of old kung fu movies.
Roses are for his mother, both in her name and favorite flower.
Additional Info:
He's a huge kung-fu buff, doing weekly crawls through pawn shops to try and find any movies he doesn't already own. Through self teachings and youtube videos he's become an expert of sorts when it comes to fixing old VCRs, so his hands are usually covered in small scratches and burns from working on them in his spare time. The tattoo on his stomach is the result of a night spent heavily drinking and a dare from one of his buddies, though he'll give you a long rattled explanation about it to try and justify keeping it. The gang he's a part of is really just a bunch of friends who like to be a nuisance and cause trouble in the city he lives in, they aren't openly carrying guns and robbing places mostly just harassing people on the street and loitering more then anything. He has an obsession with anything cherry flavored, even going as far as to have his local gas station stock specialty flavored cigarettes and cherry soda for him. Despite openly carrying katanas on his back he bought a lock to keep on them so he can't pull them out of the sheath without removing it.
Gang outfit:
Alt Gang outfit:
Gang Outfit (No bandanna, arms down to see face):
Alt Gang outfit (No bandanna, arms down to see face):
Casual Outfit:
Alt Casual Outfit:
Riot Outfit:
Alt Riot Outfit:
Art Refs:
Art of Cyrus
Short Stories:
Written by Feather Weather:
The old clerk looked up when the tinny bell above the store door, only to glower when a group of young men, tattooed hooligans the lot of them, entered his store.
The ruffians were laughing, going through the bins of second and third hand VHS. Every so often one would show the others a tape, only for there to be grumbling and the VHS tossed back into the bin with the others. After several minutes, there was exclamations of excitement and, after a moment, the rowdiest one of all – a tall young man, made taller by the large spikes of his Mohawk – came up to the counter, holding one of the VHS like it was his most prized possession. He pulled down his bandanna to give the clerk a wicked grin. “Mister! Let me buy this tape!”
Despite the demented smile on his face, the red haired man sounded more like a child who had received the one gift he’d wanted all year long. The clerk blinked, before looking down at the proffered tape. “$8,” he said after a moment. The red haired man, despite his intimidating glory, quickly started rummaging within the pockets of his baggy pants, finally producing a few wrinkled bills.
He made a squeal of delight when the VHS was bagged and purchase, giving a hearty thanks, even as he pulled his bandanna back up over his mouth.
“You sure you want to be lugging those swords like that son?” he eventually asked as the group headed out the door.
“Aw, don’t worry ‘bout that mister – they’re locked, see?” He gave an experimental tug, and the katana didn’t budge from its scabbard.
That… actually made him feel better. Slightly.
The ruffians were laughing, going through the bins of second and third hand VHS. Every so often one would show the others a tape, only for there to be grumbling and the VHS tossed back into the bin with the others. After several minutes, there was exclamations of excitement and, after a moment, the rowdiest one of all – a tall young man, made taller by the large spikes of his Mohawk – came up to the counter, holding one of the VHS like it was his most prized possession. He pulled down his bandanna to give the clerk a wicked grin. “Mister! Let me buy this tape!”
Despite the demented smile on his face, the red haired man sounded more like a child who had received the one gift he’d wanted all year long. The clerk blinked, before looking down at the proffered tape. “$8,” he said after a moment. The red haired man, despite his intimidating glory, quickly started rummaging within the pockets of his baggy pants, finally producing a few wrinkled bills.
He made a squeal of delight when the VHS was bagged and purchase, giving a hearty thanks, even as he pulled his bandanna back up over his mouth.
“You sure you want to be lugging those swords like that son?” he eventually asked as the group headed out the door.
“Aw, don’t worry ‘bout that mister – they’re locked, see?” He gave an experimental tug, and the katana didn’t budge from its scabbard.
That… actually made him feel better. Slightly.
