Heist Squad! (The Revival | Closed)

(Okay by the way for everyone in the previous rp I added whether or not you want them to be shipped, what the wear, and I took out hogwarts house)

So when's this going to start?

When everyone has posted their character. Don't worry, it'll happen

(So sorry for taking so long! My school took away our laptops, so I couldn't do anything until I got home. I'll post my girl as soon as possible)

Name: Cinthia Opeyemi (Cin/Sin)
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Questioning, but might be convinced to swing either way.
Appearance: She's very self-conscious about her appearance since she looked different from her entire family. She's a very lean but athletic girl with typically subtle curves, except her waist creates a pronounced hourglass shape. Her face is sharp and angular, and can easily become cold and unfeeling, adding to the intimidating look she can don on a whim. Her skin has a darkish olive complexion, but her left arm, some parts of her left side and leg, and spots on the left side of her face and neck have faintish burns on them. Her eyes are heterochromia, the right eye a light blue and the left a dark green. She's very self-conscious about her eyes and will usually do her best to hide them, as well as the burns. She has a long and large mass of tight black curls (or black with silver streaks, depending on how the light is hitting on it) that invade her face and refuse to be tamed. If she's feeling frisky, she'll have the one side of her head braided into cornrows. Other than that, she usually just lets it be and brushes it every once in a while–though, that doesn't really make much of a difference. Faint scars pepper her body. She's also somewhat tall at 5'8 and 1/2.
Clothing: She covers all that she can, so that means trenchcoat-like jackets, skinny jeans, knee-high boots, long-sleeved shirts, thin gloves, and anything with a hood if she's really paranoid. Her favorite color to wear is black or gray–or both. She wears the same thing for both missions and casual, but her mission clothes are leather and have lots of hidden pockets for weapons, and she also has a cloth mask covering her face from the nose down.
Personality: She is a natural-born leader, able to appease to virtually anyone once given the time to analyze their interests and personalities–though she has no problem with letting others take control. However, most people she has met either hates her or loves her, there is no in between. Her allies are willing to stand behind her no matter the cause. While very intelligent and a quick thinker, she typically opts for improvisation over meticulous plans. This is because she firmly believes that thought-out plans leave little room for mistakes or unaccounted moves on the opponent's part. She knows who she is working with, so she'll call on a select few to handle situations how they feel it should be handled. If the situation truly calls for it, she will step in and lay out a strategy that almost always works in their favor. She is usually withdrawn but can be an excellent speaker when need be, moving people to her side with relative ease. She takes the time to get to know people so that she is more present and likable. She also relates to those who have gone through similar experiences as she had, so that gains even more respect. She doesn't think of herself as more important or more deserving than others. She can be intimidating to those she doesn't know and has no interest in gaining their approval, but that is only a facade hiding how caring she truly is. That being said, if you get on her nerves for too long, she won't hesitate to hurtle the nearest object at your head. Don't worry. She'll miss on purpose. :) Following the intimidating side of her, she is absolutely ruthless towards her enemies, not hesitating to make a kill if she needs to. Language nerd.
Specialty: Scout. She works to gather secrets on people that could be useful in the long run, and use those secrets against them and to her advantage. She also helps the leader come up with the best course of action. With her vast knowledge of languages, she can also work as a translator.
Weakness(es): Though she puts on a mask of confidence, she's really doubting herself the entire time. She also will argue with you to the death if she thinks she's right. May be a little quick to slit someone's throat if they pissed her off. Insomnia sucks, so she's sleep-deprived 80% of the time. HATES being touched by people she's not close with, and even then will complain if a friend hooks an arm around her or tries to hug her.
Weapon of choice: Her twin double-bladed daggers. They're like normal daggers, but with a razor-sharp blade on either side of the hilt. One edge of the blade is thin and sharp for quick, clean kills, the other is slightly jagged for more painful slashes.
Background: Cast away by her unknown biological parents, she was adopted by a high-class family that looked down on her. She was never good enough in their eyes. Her eyes were ugly, her hair was a rat's nest, her skin was too dark, she was too tall, she was too quiet, she spent too much time with books, she shouldn't be learning about other people. She was both physically and verbally abused for the entirety of her childhood. It got so bad that her adoptive mother poured boiling water over her, causing her burn marks on her left side. After she healed enough to move at least some, she took to the streets and lived there. She eventually learned how to be invisible, blending into the darkness and learning people's secrets. She used her languages and ability to mimic accents to charm people into doing what she wanted. Those that stood in her way were soon on their knees, begging for mercy. She became a sorta Shadow of the streets, no one knowing if she was there eavesdropping or not.
Likes: Learning about other cultures and languages, as well as any trivial thing that she finds in the library. She's also got a knack for cooking, especially sweets. Cats. The night.
Dislikes: Stuck up snobs that think they're better than everybody else, being touched, being forced to do something she doesn't agree with, dogs, people who belittle others for the hell of it.
A quote you think describes them: I've got a few. "Damaged people are dangerous. They know how to make Hell feel like home." -Unknown. "When people are very damaged, they can often meet the world with a kind of defiance." -J K Rowling. And one that she says: "You try to blind me, but the joke's on you–I thrive in the darkness."
Other (optional): She's got a twin brother named Wulfric (Wolf) that almost looks exactly like her if she were a dude.
Shipping?: I mean, you can try

(Perfect! I'll post a starter)

Casey Cortel held her phone up to her ear. Her face was a calm mask. She laughed bitterly at something the person on the other line had said. "So it's a suicide mission." She continued to listen and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, the rumors are true. I could be able to get it done . . . for the right price." A number was offered and the criminal laughed a cold, harsh laugh. "Who do you think I am? Higher." The voice offered another number. "Nine point five. Nine?" There was a long, drawn out silence. It filled the whole room. "Fine. I'll be in touch." She laughed another cold, merciless laugh. "What? You thought you'd call me up, promise me money and I wouldn't see you again until the job was done? No. We're not done yet. I'll see you soon Mr. Warner."

Casey sat back in her chair, staring at the phone. She couldn't do this on her own. She would need help. She typed out four letters. Summonings. To be here as soon as possible. She sent her personal messengers to send the letters. They might just be able to pull this off.

Cinthia was spying on a particular group of shady individuals, listening to their conversation with a cocked head and sealed lips. Her limbs were growing numb from crouching and standing still for so long, but the sweet, sweet, secrets being spilled from their lips was like music to her ears. Just even more contacts in my pocket, she thought bitterly. As their conversation came to a close, she stood and shook out her aching limbs, then turned–

Her daggers were in her hands within seconds as she faced this stranger, dark gray eyes narrowed beneath her heavy hood. "What business," she demanded coolly, her husky voice muffled by the cloth mask over her nose and mouth. The person didn't say anything, just handed her a letter with a familiar seal. Ah. She sliced it open with the sharp edge of one of her blades, then read the letter. Her eyes darted over the paper, and her face didn't change as she folded it back up and tucked it into a hidden breast pocket of her trench coat. Time to see what Cortel wants, she thought as she lept over the buildings and blended into the darkness out of habit.

(Just a reminder, Casey already knows everyone that got a letter)

Casey opened the door to find a short, blonde-haired boy. Lloyd Windsor. She welcomed him into her apartment with a small smile that didn't reach her eyes. Apartment was an understatement. It was 3,000 square feet and lavishly decorated, and that was only the first floor. “Come in Lloyd,” she said. “Have a seat.”

Cinthia ran silently over the roof of Cortel's home, then jumped down and landed in a neat crouch. She checked and rechecked her weapons, fingers brushing over her precious daggers, Gauna and Ngami. There was a distinction between the two, if a bit slight. Guana's blades had a blackish tint to them, while Ngami's blades had a light silver tint that was especially noticeable in the moonlight. She pulled her mask farther up her nose and knocked on the door.

Though she had her dark gray contacts in and was currently covered head to toe in dark clothing, she was relatively recognizable by those that knew her particular style. Her curly hair was braided the best it could be braided and neatly tucked under her heavy hood. The black leather of her knee-length coat was trimmed with moonlight silver embroidery, and a moon was stitched into the middle of her hood, right over her forehead. Her black boots were near silent on all surfaces and came up to her knees, hugging her legs and leaving only a small portion of her black, stretchy pants to be visible. Her hands, of course, were covered with thin gloves that allowed for breathability but still saved her from the touch of others.

Casey smiled a small, genuine, rare smile. “Hello Luca.” At the sound of a knock, she turned to the boy in the chair. She noticed he had clutched his laptop bag at the sight of someone new. He was either very smart or very stupid. Or perhaps both. “Lloyd, be a dear and answer the door, thanks.”