Cute lil' fluff thingy(o/o, with @RedTheHopeless)

Yup. Here it is

Well hello there

Hullo!
Do you want to use a template, or surprise the other?

Either or I suppose. I prefer templates but I'm fine if you don't wanna use them

We can use templates.
Do you have one you like, or should I get mine?

Either works for me really so up to you

Okay, let me get it.

Name:
Species:
Gender:
Hair:
Eye color:
Personality:
Flaws:
Hobbies:

Noice! Do you want me to get my character up first or wait?

Will you get yours up so I know around what age to do…?

maniacal laugh
alrighty

why the laughing!?
Sweet

Name: Atticus "Icarus" Clark Wilson
Species: Rifter but describes himself as a Fallen Guardian Angel. (He’s an angel who failed to protect one of his proxies from the other side, so he’s now stuck on Earth and Purgatory/Hell dimensions. He’s locked out of Heaven so he can live with the guilt of failing to protect an innocent person.)
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Pansexual
Age: looks about 24 but is actually 73,489
Appearance: Storm-grey eyes and pale skin that hardly burns, fluffy white hair with silver streaks. Average height at 5'9" and at a lighter weight at 135 lbs. Rectangular body frame with a slim but athletic-like build. Has faint (so mortals cannot see) halo-like horns (horns connected in a full circle) on his head that has a crack running through the middle. Large, fluffy, dark-grey wings with white and black speckles. Wears a light-grey hoodie two sizes too large for him (to hide his wings), with jeans and beat-up black sneakers. Gold-colored chain-necklace with a small pendant with a red insignia of his true name on the outside.
Personality: Kind, loyal, helpful, emotional, submissive, honest when directly asked, impulsive, tries to be funny to hide his depression, a bit too innocent and naive for his age, will try to mediate between two friends if they fight, introverted but still likes to socialize in moderation.
Flaws: Depression is a major kicker for him.
Likes: cats, swimming, snow, poetry/creative writing
Dislikes: mean/rude people, the heat of summer, being helpless/needy
Abilities: Flying, Angelic Barrier he can use to protect and trap others, Holy Light to blind enemies but also damages himself, Healing Touch to heal his friends and himself. Can congregate light energy into unstable mass and throw and explode it at targets.
Other: He will absolutely, under no circumstances, fight back if someone hits him. If someone does hit him, he thinks he deserves it and takes it as a form of punishment. The only time he will fight is to protect or defend another being. He has lost his original color due to his depression/guilt/failure, so now he’s “grey” and devoid of his previously colored brilliance.

why the laughing!?
Sweet

just look at my character's age and you'll see

Name: Samson "Sam" Troman
Species: Demigod who got bored.
Age: 22
Sexuality: Greyromantic pansexual
Gender: Male
Appearance: China-blue eyes and tan skin(from constantly being in the sun), with indigo hair. He's a bit underweight, at 103 lbs, for his height being 5'7". Small shouldered and slim. Sam has no marks that may suggest anything unordinary about him. He wears a bright red hoodie in the biggest size he could get with faded jeans and hiking boots. Has a lip ring and a tattoo on his wrist.
Personality: Generally a kind guy, can be a bit blunt at times. Fiery when he's passionate about something
Flaws: Has social anxiety, depression, and OCD. Too honest.
Likes: Narwhals, kittens, ferns, and music.
Dislikes: Haters, his anxiety, and most Archangels.
Abilities: He's the son of Apollo, so he can do a lot of things that his father can do.
Other: Is willing to die for a stranger in trouble.

Ooh~ Nice! He looks awesome!

Thanks! Atticus looks amazing!

Thank you!

I'm sorry but….
Can you start it? I can never start these things

(sure thing my dude. any ideas you want to go with first or wing it?)

(let's wing it)

(alrighty then. I'm a bit rusty so apologies beforehand)

(It's cool, dude. I'm prolly going to be somewhat inconsistent about when I answer, because my chromebook is going to die)

Icarus's lungs burned like they were lit from the fires of Satan's breath and his legs screamed like tortured souls of the forsaken. His eyes were tearing up from cold wind and bullets whipping past him. Shouts of drunken and angry gangsters followed Icarus's trail in close pursuit. A small bundle of fluff was cradled in his arms, protected from the gunshots by Icarus's body as the bleeding angel sprinted away as fast as his feet could take him, opting to go the route of winding backstreets and dark alleyways to hopefully get them off his tail.

Sam ran for his life. The riot only had just started, but it escalated quickly. His sneakers were scorched from running through flames, ends of his hair singed. There were so many people he could have helped… and most were dead. Keeping his composure for another minute, he ran to an alley, where he found someone.
"Hello?"

"Shhh!" Icarus quickly hushed the guy, his heart leaping at the fact he had been followed all this way. He swiftly grabbed the guy and pulled him in, pressing him up against the dark corner of the wall as a multitude of footsteps passed by the entrance leading to the main street. "Sorry about that," Icarus whispered out, his chest heaving heavily with the effort to breath. "Who are you? And are you here to kill me?"

"What!? Um, no. I'd never hurt a fly," Sam responded. "I was running from the riot. Why are you out here?" He asked, studying the other's features. He was good looking, with an athletic type body, but slim. He also had incredibly faint horns, barely visible. "And who are you?"

"Running from the riot leaders. I stole their dog," Icarus gestured to the bundle of floof tucked neatly under one of his arms, resting in a half-open backpack. "To be fair, they were abusing it," he justified himself, shifting uncomfortably in place, slowly becoming aware of spots on his back and wings were searing hot with pain. He flexed his jaw in response, gritting his teeth through the piercing pain and odd feelings of liquid dripping down his back and feathers. "Who I am doesn't matter right now…" he managed to mumble out as a small yap was pressed out of the lil dog.

"I'm glad you saved it," Sam replied with a sigh. He had dodged most of the bullets, but any glass that had been thrown or broken on him had left little tears in the skin, mostly his face. His legs felt like lead and lungs burned like someone had thrown a burning 9v battery into them. "Okay. Is there anything I can do to help you and the dog?"

"Can you climb?" Icarus asked slowly, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice as his gaze pointed to the nearby rooftops. What the absolute hell?! Why am I suggesting this?!