Heya, this is my oc blog, but before we talk about that, hereās some house keeping.
Iām the mod, Lucas, he/him my main blog is @batsonmyboxers where I post non oc lotf stuff, and non lotf stuff. So if you hate lotf ocs, go to the there.
Assume that if the text isnāt colored that itās me :]
The mod here and all the characters are minors so please keep asks appropriate
Anything written in normal text as seen here takes place early on in the island. Anything bolded takes place later on.
Now, the thing youāre here for: my characters (under cut)
An almost scraggly girl, donning two pigtails and face paint approached. She held herself in a more put together manner than the other hunters. The look in her eyes was less crazed, less like an animal. Whatever the others had lost, she seemed to hold dangerously close to her chest. Dangling it like a prized catch.
Angelica Lozifarico is a 12 year old (July 25th) biggun whoās a hunter, but keeps her wits about her. However, I think of her not like some sort of Hannibal lecter and a lot more like a middle school bully (because sheās fucking 12) She is still kind of a manipulator though. Sheās pretty useful, sheās not afraid to get her hands dirty to catch food, but if she wants someone messed up, sheāll usually avoid throwing the first punch herself.
He sat in what couldāve been a daze. The look on his face somewhere between a lost man and pure childlike stupidity. Though, his other characteristics supported the latter assumption much more. He was practically useless, claiming a sun allergy and lacking practical knowledge that made even piggy a vague asset.
Neil āBrickā Andrew Pauper is an 11 and a half year old (April 1st) biggun whoās frankly entirely useless. He grew up very sheltered because his parents feared him getting bullied for his albinism. Heās also pretty weak, and needs to be careful in the sun. Heās all in all, fucking useless, and he canāt really grasp that. Brick really doesnāt know many things, but he loves to learn and absorb new information, though this can come off as annoying.
Everything about the boy in-front of him could be simply described as sickly. His skin was a milky almost transparent color, bathed in scabs and acne. His eyes were dark as the day was long, and very tired looking, with dark circles thatād seem more at home on a grown man who worked long hours at a factory. Contrasted with his general demeanor, was a strong posh accent.
Enoch Kozlov a 14 year old (December 17th) biggun with a gloomy, almost morbid demeanor. He didnāt join either faction on the island, opting instead to watch from afar. Heās a generally weird and somewhat unpleasant guy due to his morbid interests and slight complex. Heās a very damaged child, someone who became a monster because he was told he was one. He lashes out and bears his teeth, but less like a wolf, and more like a frightened dog.
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I still love lotf, I still love the lotf oc community, I just donāt like the direction the lore I was writing was taking
If you like my dudes, they and some other characters will still be posted about, probably on my main for now, as Iām using them in a non lotf related project with some friends ( @/doctorbonk @/shaky-b0n3s @/feathery-bastard @/just-an-artist-that-exists )called High Place
Iāve been neglecting this blog anywho but uh, I wanted to give her a proper send off so yeah
[A girl with yellow ribbons in her hair observes Angie from afar, her dark eyes scanning the way she plunges the spear into boar's body]
[A twig snaps. Angie jolts, searching for the creature that made the sound. Was it friend or foe? Predator or prey?]
[The girl emerges, pushing her glasses up his nose]
Your very good at that, y'know. I don't see many girls hunting. It's nice to know I'm not alone
[She twirls with a lock of her hair]
I like your bows
-š ( @lunar-lop)
She took a second to get a better look, a smile quickly making its home on her face,
āOf course I am! Canāt let the boys have all the fun, can I?ā
A notable air of tension seemed to lift off her once she realized another girl was her company. Her feet sort of bounced while dragging the pig behind her, eager to talk.
āIf you think this is big game, you shouldāve seen this one I got awhile back! Big and fat it was- like a bear wearing a pigs skin-!ā
She gestured all big with her hands, puffing out her cheeks and blowing in an imitation of the thing,
āCool you like to hunt. How do you do it? I donāt see you in hunting parties often, you donāt wear paint, not that youāve got to, Iām just curious is all- Oh!ā
Eyes darted to the hair of the girl across from her, pigtails in yellow bows. An even bigger grin spread across her as a simple mind remembered the strangers compliment to her hair,
āWeāre matching!ā
She gestured at her own hair and then the girls, mouth toothy and awkward and full of glee.
Yeah, We're matching! I'm um, I'm Ruth Sanchez, nice to meet you Angie.
[She plays with a lock of hair from her pigtails]
I uh, I usually hunt by placing- placing traps here and there. I don't hunt with the uh, with the boy because I don't like them much. Haven't had the- the need to paint my face since I'm not, y'know...
[She waves her hand, vaguely gesticulating.]
Maybe... maybe we could go hunting sometime and- and you could help me do my face paint? I could- um, I could give you one of the pelt I've been trying to tan. My um, my aunt is really into taxidermy and- and tanning and those sorts of things so she um, she taught me.
āI donāt much like the boys either, they smell bad and theyāre mean. Rogerās alright, he knows when to shut it. But I get not wanting to hang around them,ā
She started bouncing herself between her legs, too much energy for her relatively small frame to hold.
āIād love to go hunting together! Traps are a good idea but itās easier to hunt something face to face sometimes. Iāll show you, sure. Oh I donāt need a pelt itās plenty hot here. Say, do you know how to sharpen a stick? Or do you have a knife? I assume you do if youāve got your machines but itās alright if you donāt, I canāt get canny about it.ā
[A girl with yellow ribbons in her hair observes Angie from afar, her dark eyes scanning the way she plunges the spear into boar's body]
[A twig snaps. Angie jolts, searching for the creature that made the sound. Was it friend or foe? Predator or prey?]
[The girl emerges, pushing her glasses up his nose]
Your very good at that, y'know. I don't see many girls hunting. It's nice to know I'm not alone
[She twirls with a lock of her hair]
I like your bows
-š ( @lunar-lop)
She took a second to get a better look, a smile quickly making its home on her face,
āOf course I am! Canāt let the boys have all the fun, can I?ā
A notable air of tension seemed to lift off her once she realized another girl was her company. Her feet sort of bounced while dragging the pig behind her, eager to talk.
āIf you think this is big game, you shouldāve seen this one I got awhile back! Big and fat it was- like a bear wearing a pigs skin-!ā
She gestured all big with her hands, puffing out her cheeks and blowing in an imitation of the thing,
āCool you like to hunt. How do you do it? I donāt see you in hunting parties often, you donāt wear paint, not that youāve got to, Iām just curious is all- Oh!ā
Eyes darted to the hair of the girl across from her, pigtails in yellow bows. An even bigger grin spread across her as a simple mind remembered the strangers compliment to her hair,
āWeāre matching!ā
She gestured at her own hair and then the girls, mouth toothy and awkward and full of glee.
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Monica was enjoying a pleasant walk on the island, as long as your definition of pleasant involved fog and a few splinters. As she was moving, she felt someone elseās body shove against her arm. She angrily jerked her head towards the boy who had bumped into her.
āWatch it, aaaā¦ā
She trailed off, jaw hanging in silence and heart beating in her head for a moment before collecting herself. She couldnāt hold back a wry chuckle.
āChrist, you look like the ghost of my (still living) older brother, night-shift-eyes.ā
She paused for a moment in anticipation, finally lowering her spear. Nothing. She stared at him with mild disgust, continuing flatly.
āAre you going to apologize for nearly causing me to spear myself or do you want me to stand here and wait?ā
- šŖ²
(Monica of @ribbits-british-children )
āYou have a lot of nerve talking like that after running into me.ā
He moved away, taking a slightly higher position on a rock and glaring daggers at her.
āAnd I donāt know who your older brother is but I frankly donāt care to learn if heās anything like you. You seem an awful lot like those little kids up in the sand but much too old to be acting it. Youāve ought to be about my age but Iām sure your behavior would get you scolded by a teacher back home.ā
He broke eye contact midway through, starting to pick a scab on his arm, only half looking at her.
āMaybe thatās why youāre all excited to be here, donāt have to answer to anybody saying you let them down.ā
In a few seconds he thought up something to rile her up.
āTheyāre still watching you. Iām not supposed to tell, itāll ruin the results probably, but they are.ā
He got to eye level with her, real close.
āYou know that itch you feel in your skin all the time? Thatās a chip, to track you. Military stuff. They say itās Russian spy technology, but itās actually for a war against the people- I should know.ā
Half his blabberings were rumors from kids at school, the rest were rubbish even he didnāt understand. No matter, itād either give her a fright or make her think he was crazy. Both would get her to piss off. He hadā¦ more important matters to attend to.
āYouāll probably go home after but I doubt theyād want you anymore. Once they realize how rotten of a child you are. Just a hunch anyways.ā
A closer inspection would reveal the source of the voice as a slightly chubby boy of average height with dark matted hair. Maybe a year or two younger, but definitely taller than Micheal.
āI think if you went to my school someone wouldāve beaten you to death already.ā
āItās kind of pitiful.ā
His expression remained unreadable.
āWell? Youāre one of the older boys yeah? Iām Enoch Kozlov.ā
He stuck out his hand like a well trained businessman. Firm, and almost inviting.
> A girl's voice echoed through the bushes and creepers of the forest. A few more moments of branches below snapping under what seems to be the weight of footsteps and the rustling of leaves, before a blob of blonde hair with black roots entered Angie's vision.
Hiā Uhm.. Sorry, I- I got a bit stuck in there. The vines got to me.
Say, is your name Angie?? Someone named Boat told me about you, I just wanted to ask if there's any other girls around the island aside from us. I didn't get into the initial meeting in time.
> This is insanely embarrassing for a girl who'd usually be able to keep her cool under pressure. She knows the difference between belladonnas and blueberries, find good water sources, and hell of a ton of things that a C# can't do to help survive. And yet she can't even properly introduce herself and make a good impression without making a mess of herself and be a damn embarrassment even to people she's actively looking for. What really are you, Ellie? Are you plain stupid?
My name is Ellie. Ellie Harrison.
- @following-harrison-lotf (šµ)
āEugh Boat. Donāt even waste your breath on his name, best to avoid him honestly.ā
She fidgeted with her stick, smiled, and started to untangle her. Stabbing through the more knotted vines.
āIām Angie, yeah. Well, Angelica but my dad always called me Angie and so did the kids at school, so Iām Angie.ā
She eventually got her out of the vines with only a few scratches to show for it.
āThereās some other girls on the island,ā
She started to kind of pick at her teeth. Notably, unladylike.
āThereās a lot more boys but Iāve seen some other girls around. Amphaās one of them, sheās fun. I get trying to find other girls, the boys here drive me half mad. I wish I knew some more lasses that I could lead you towards. I spend most of my time with Jackās lot of hunters. Theyāre annoying but I like being useful.ā
āIs Ellie short for anything?ā
(Mentioned: Boat of @askboat and Ampha of @the-celestial-fawn )
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He seemed to kind of come from nowhere, with tangled hair falling in his face.
āThatās kind of odd, generally speaking. I fancy myself a bit of a loner as well though, so perhaps Iām odd as well.ā
He offered up a hand, like a childās impression of a businessman,
āKozlov. Enoch Kozlov. You?ā
- (Enoch from @angels-enclave )
[seemingly from nowhere, a boy around his age or older appeared, shocking, Haneul as he quickly gathered himself together to shake the boys hand out of respect. While doing so the comment from, Enoch didnāt slip his ears causing him to pause.]
āWhat- oh I wasnāt aware someone was hearing me talk to myself.. thatās embarrassing my names Haneul..ā
[He cleared his throat loudly, trying to change the subject]
āWell you donāt seem oddāmaybe we could be friends if youād like, of course. You say youāre a loner, correct? Unless.. you like being alone, thatās nice too I guess.ā
"lozifarico" it's a voice she has heard before through wind and smoke, arguments and half-reconciliations. though, never one that has directly spoken to her, up until now that is. when she turns around, ainsworth is standing in front of her, their eyes catching for a moment. but, he doesn't look... mean, as he usually does with the other boys his age. if anything, the everette ainsworth, looks awkward? why is that? nevertheless, it's strange and it certainly doesnt suit him. he clears his throat, quietly.
āwould you mind..." helping. he means to ask for help, but it does not leave his mouth, as if the word doesnāt exist in his everyday vernacular. his pride, really, is anything but palpable. though, he knows angie is smart enough to pick up the implications, so he doesn't bother finishing his sentence properly for onceā something he surely would have gotten scolded for back at home. his father didnāt exactly appreciate loose ends when words were so easy to intertwine, per his words, especially when it came to conveying his disappointment it seems. but, his father is not here, and this place was evidently not home. not in the slightest.
he sighs, irritated, though not at her. āit's beginning to become a nuisance, but i'd rather not cut it, less i risk snipping off to much and looking like simon during that one retreat" the image in his mind alone is enough to bring back a more prominent frown on his face, cringing almost in flared disgust.
he mumbles something underneath his breath, nearly in reluctance, his eyes narrowing at her slightly before he points a finger to the two pigtails that drape down the sides of her nape. āyou seem to know your way around hair, like you know what you're doing. can't say āhat about most people here, don't you agree?" he then points a finger at his own hair. golden locks that have grown past the term of short, at least for a boy. they curl at the edges, and are cleanly from his constant washes in the ocean waters, but they are quite tangled and the hairs that frame his face get in his eyes. he tilts his head then, looking off to the side.
"so i'd rather have someone do something with it, rather than snip it to shreds. i 'hought you might have the qualifications. do you not?"
ā everette ainsworth @everettes-requiem š
She lightly narrowed her almond eyes and looked him up and down as if to contemplate. She wasnāt a big fan of most of the boys on the island, but she always enjoyed a compliment and this one seemed, less unbearable.
āI suppose I do. Tie up my own hair enough.ā
She produced a small shred of fabric that had once been white, perhaps a length torn from one of the many abandoned shirts.
āA little boring in terms of ribbon, but it should work just as good,ā she motioned to a fallen length of tree, āSit there if you want me to fix it.ā
She took a particularly long shred methodically wrapped them around her hand, and then began to section the blond boyās hair.
āYour bangs are too short for a ponytail, thatās the hair style Iām doing for you- I thought you probably wouldnāt want pigtails and I donāt know how to do a bun,ā
She allowed the front of his hair to hang low, but scooped up as much as would be comfortable into a clump on the back of his head, and placed her palm on top of it. The fabric on her hand unraveling like a spool of thread to loop around his hair a few times.
āThe point is, youāll have to live with some hair in your face. Donāt think itāll be too different, probably still longer than youāre used to, but the heaviest parts are up and out of the way at least.ā
She finished a final wrap around his hair and tied a bow around it. Maybe not the nicest bow, or the neatest, but itād keep secure for a good while.
āAlright,ā She bore a light smile, trying to hide the simple joy of usefulness, and patted him on the back, āYouāre done. Come back if you need me to redo it I guess.ā
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Angie your hair is so pretty is there any other hairstyles you like to do? Or want to do in the future?
She grinned, āThank you! My dad used to do them for me, but heās not here, so I do them now.ā
She thought about it, a slight sadness about her, āI just do the pigtails I guess. My dad used to do a lot more hairstyles for me so I guess Iād like to do those or have him do those for me again. Pigtails are quicker so heād usually do those for me in the mornings when I had to go to school and he had to go to work.ā
āSometimes, though,ā she gave a melancholic smile, āSometimes when it was picture day or we both woke up early, or on the weekends and he thought itād be special, heād do my hair up more fancy. He could do any thing with it! He liked giving me braids, or waves and curls, or buns, or big things with all my hair pinned on top of my head like a movie star.ā
āDad used to call me his little star sometimes.ā
She got quiet. Thinking, or indulging in nostalgia, it was unclear.
āHeād treat me like his little star too. We were each otherās family, and I guess I donāt have a mum or aunties or uncles or grandparents like other kids. No siblings or cousin either. So I guess weāre all we have.ā
