atomic
𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒. 𝒶𝒽𝒶𝒽𝒶. 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀.
<p>
<span style="font-size:10px;">save this box</span>
</p>
<span style="font-size:10px;">save this box</span>
</p>
Last edited by a moderator:
fame's toolbox {characters} {plots} {idea's}
- Thread starter atomic
- Start date
atomic
𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒. 𝒶𝒽𝒶𝒽𝒶. 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀.
save this one too
atomic
𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒. 𝒶𝒽𝒶𝒽𝒶. 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀.
ＯＷＥＮ ＧＲＩＦＦＩＴＨ
ＢＡＳＩＣＳ
name ;; owen griffith
n.name ;; none
age ;; eighteen y/o
birthday ;; mar 17
gender ;; cis male
sexuality ;; doesn't care
crush ;; "i hate people"
role ;; N/A
A P P E A R A N C E
height ;; the griffith family has always been graced with tall legs and they more often than not tower over the people they meet. owen, however, grew to be the tallest of them all with his younger brother standing at 6 foot.
build ;; its only expected that a notorious gang leader would be fit and owen doesn't lack in that department. although his muscles don't bulge out of his skin like an athlete, he is built like a wolf and designed for power.
eyes ;; some people might find that owen's expression is piercing and sometimes venomous and that has a lot to do with his eyes. like his mother, owen shares the woman's cold blue gaze and it helps a lot when he wants people to know how much he doesn't like them.
hair ;; there's nothing remarkably significant about owen's hair when he doesn't spend any time on it. brown and unkempt, he usually lets it do whatever it wants. on the off chance that he's not wearing a beanie, it will usually be kept up like a duck tail.
complexion ;; owen griffith has always been a bit on the darker side despite the fact that he wears the optimal amount of clothing. he gets his tan when he works in the garage and on cars in his free time. the man doesn't have the capability to blush even but he can sometimes drain the color from his face based on how angry he gets. though his skin is probably the most expressive feature about him. the man is littered in scars, the most notable being a reasonable scar that rests on his right temple. very few people know how he got it and he wouldn't even give God the time to explain. the other scars that can be found on his torso, back, and abdomen are the results of gunshots, knives, and fights.
apparel ;; owen never really had a fashion taste, coming from a family that can't even afford electricity and water in the same month. he gets most of his clothes from thrift stores but tends to keep to hoodies, old and worn leather jackets, and white tank tops. he'll only ever wear jeans and most of the jeans he wears have holes and may be ripped. though, there are two accessories that you will hardly ever see the boy without. the first being a silver cross necklace that he couldn't seem to get rid of even after he turned his back on his religion. the second item is his trusty beanie, which no man should be without.
build ;; its only expected that a notorious gang leader would be fit and owen doesn't lack in that department. although his muscles don't bulge out of his skin like an athlete, he is built like a wolf and designed for power.
eyes ;; some people might find that owen's expression is piercing and sometimes venomous and that has a lot to do with his eyes. like his mother, owen shares the woman's cold blue gaze and it helps a lot when he wants people to know how much he doesn't like them.
hair ;; there's nothing remarkably significant about owen's hair when he doesn't spend any time on it. brown and unkempt, he usually lets it do whatever it wants. on the off chance that he's not wearing a beanie, it will usually be kept up like a duck tail.
complexion ;; owen griffith has always been a bit on the darker side despite the fact that he wears the optimal amount of clothing. he gets his tan when he works in the garage and on cars in his free time. the man doesn't have the capability to blush even but he can sometimes drain the color from his face based on how angry he gets. though his skin is probably the most expressive feature about him. the man is littered in scars, the most notable being a reasonable scar that rests on his right temple. very few people know how he got it and he wouldn't even give God the time to explain. the other scars that can be found on his torso, back, and abdomen are the results of gunshots, knives, and fights.
apparel ;; owen never really had a fashion taste, coming from a family that can't even afford electricity and water in the same month. he gets most of his clothes from thrift stores but tends to keep to hoodies, old and worn leather jackets, and white tank tops. he'll only ever wear jeans and most of the jeans he wears have holes and may be ripped. though, there are two accessories that you will hardly ever see the boy without. the first being a silver cross necklace that he couldn't seem to get rid of even after he turned his back on his religion. the second item is his trusty beanie, which no man should be without.
P E R S O N A L I T Y
owen is probably the most complicated man you will ever have the misfortune to meet. upon first meeting the man, he will regard you by neglecting to regard you in the first place. coming off as blunt and rude, it will be difficult to get past any sort of relationship milestone as owen has no need for other people in his life. this isn't to say that talking to him is like talking to a cardboard box. on the contrary, a conversation with owen is much like a roller coaster. he will string together a long and convoluted series of sarcastic quips and metaphors to artistically let you know how much he doesn't care about you. he will bluntly insult you in any way he finds fit. he may even give you the silent treatment, accompanied by a cocked brow or a blank stare - chances are he's blocked you out as white noise. if you get to know him even a little bit, you will find that he still doesn't change much and he may even treat you worse than before. this makes being his friend an accomplishment to be proud of.
above, is owen on his good days. owen on his bad days goes a little something like this. the man is irritable and won't waste a second in tearing you down. he is one of the most observant people you will ever meet because owen griffith knows humanity and all its dark sides. he knows what makes people tick and thrives on breaking them down until there's nothing left. he gets violent but happens to be good at controlling his violence so he isn't constantly being arrested. he is irrevocably a broken human and is internally fighting a war within his own mind. he hates almost everything but the one thing he hates the most, is himself.
there's a seemingly masochistic cycle that he puts himself through wherein he distances himself from people to a point where it starts to hurt him. he wouldn't call himself lonely because, in his mind, the more miserable he is, the better. he drinks himself to sleep and hurts others just to suffer the guilt, and furthermore the pain that it brings. because things happened in owen's life that he feels he deserves to be punished for. when you're a kid and you take the full weight of the world on your shoulders, it tends to leave scars. and owen's past, present, and future is riddled with them.
getting into an actual relationship with owen is something people have only dreamed about. he has no problems sleeping with any person that's stupid enough to fall for his charm and he will drop them the next day like nothing even happened. this whole sleeping with everything that has two legs deal is yet another thing that undoubtedly makes him feel guilty which is why he'll never stop. and maybe its ironic that owen distances himself from those he cares about for the soul reason that he's terrified of losing them. he couldn't survive it a third time.
above, is owen on his good days. owen on his bad days goes a little something like this. the man is irritable and won't waste a second in tearing you down. he is one of the most observant people you will ever meet because owen griffith knows humanity and all its dark sides. he knows what makes people tick and thrives on breaking them down until there's nothing left. he gets violent but happens to be good at controlling his violence so he isn't constantly being arrested. he is irrevocably a broken human and is internally fighting a war within his own mind. he hates almost everything but the one thing he hates the most, is himself.
there's a seemingly masochistic cycle that he puts himself through wherein he distances himself from people to a point where it starts to hurt him. he wouldn't call himself lonely because, in his mind, the more miserable he is, the better. he drinks himself to sleep and hurts others just to suffer the guilt, and furthermore the pain that it brings. because things happened in owen's life that he feels he deserves to be punished for. when you're a kid and you take the full weight of the world on your shoulders, it tends to leave scars. and owen's past, present, and future is riddled with them.
getting into an actual relationship with owen is something people have only dreamed about. he has no problems sleeping with any person that's stupid enough to fall for his charm and he will drop them the next day like nothing even happened. this whole sleeping with everything that has two legs deal is yet another thing that undoubtedly makes him feel guilty which is why he'll never stop. and maybe its ironic that owen distances himself from those he cares about for the soul reason that he's terrified of losing them. he couldn't survive it a third time.
H I S T O R Y
for the most part, owen's history is quite the enigma for practically anybody who knows him. but there are a few things that can be gathered from other sources. owen was born under katherine and walter griffith and lived in a beach house until he was about nine or ten years old. when he was three years old, his mom gave birth to another owen's little brother, nathan griffith. the duo was then made into a trio when family friends introduced their newborn, evangeline st james into their lives. everything went swimmingly until evie's parents went missing and the griffith boys had to say goodbye to the girl who went to go live with her aunt a couple hours away. this was the first time owen experienced loss.
everybody knew that walter and katherine were in an unstable relationship, though nobody knew it better than owen when he caught his father cheating while his mom was away on an internship. though, afraid to open his mouth the boy kept it a secret for an entire year until his ninth birthday. a fight between his mom and dad ensued and owen finally lost it after walter hit katherine. enraged, his drunken mother left with owen and the rest of the night was a blur. this whole story is consumed in rumors and owen would be caught dead before talking about how he got the scar and what happened.
he will however, admit that his father left them soon after with only an old mp3 player to remember him by. guilt ridden and broken, owen was forced to leave the house he'd grown up in and they moved into a crappy neighborhood near where evie was settled. his mother, who owen also didn't talk about except for the occasional comment such as 'crazy old bat', could no longer hold down a job. he accepted financial help from mavis st james, evie's aunt, on the grounds that he attend a prestigious school and try to make something of himself. owen did go to school, but he most certainly didn't make something of himself. or perhaps he did, but it was in a manner that disappointed everybody. unable to pertain any information or connect with his peers, owen turned into somebody dark. he was rumored to be involved in gangs, theft, and possibly even murder. though, you'd be stupid to confront him about it.
time and time again, owen has stomached the hardest falls but nothing hit him quite as hard as the tragedy during his freshman year at highschool. he changed for the worse after nathan was killed because of him. he was shattered but still came out looking like the devil's advocate. the blotched out points in owen's history make him somebody that people fear but also crave to figure out. it's not impossible, but it'd be easier to fit a camel through an eye of a needle.
everybody knew that walter and katherine were in an unstable relationship, though nobody knew it better than owen when he caught his father cheating while his mom was away on an internship. though, afraid to open his mouth the boy kept it a secret for an entire year until his ninth birthday. a fight between his mom and dad ensued and owen finally lost it after walter hit katherine. enraged, his drunken mother left with owen and the rest of the night was a blur. this whole story is consumed in rumors and owen would be caught dead before talking about how he got the scar and what happened.
he will however, admit that his father left them soon after with only an old mp3 player to remember him by. guilt ridden and broken, owen was forced to leave the house he'd grown up in and they moved into a crappy neighborhood near where evie was settled. his mother, who owen also didn't talk about except for the occasional comment such as 'crazy old bat', could no longer hold down a job. he accepted financial help from mavis st james, evie's aunt, on the grounds that he attend a prestigious school and try to make something of himself. owen did go to school, but he most certainly didn't make something of himself. or perhaps he did, but it was in a manner that disappointed everybody. unable to pertain any information or connect with his peers, owen turned into somebody dark. he was rumored to be involved in gangs, theft, and possibly even murder. though, you'd be stupid to confront him about it.
time and time again, owen has stomached the hardest falls but nothing hit him quite as hard as the tragedy during his freshman year at highschool. he changed for the worse after nathan was killed because of him. he was shattered but still came out looking like the devil's advocate. the blotched out points in owen's history make him somebody that people fear but also crave to figure out. it's not impossible, but it'd be easier to fit a camel through an eye of a needle.
T R A I T S
m trait ;; complicated
+ traits ;; honest, loyal, self sufficient, brave, protective, vigilant, clever, witty, capable, hardworking
- traits ;; blunt, care free, hot-headed, cold, observant, assertive, sometimes childish, intellectually lacking
= traits ;; sarcastic, dark, mysterious, rallying, confidential, contradictory, deceptive, restrained
+ traits ;; honest, loyal, self sufficient, brave, protective, vigilant, clever, witty, capable, hardworking
- traits ;; blunt, care free, hot-headed, cold, observant, assertive, sometimes childish, intellectually lacking
= traits ;; sarcastic, dark, mysterious, rallying, confidential, contradictory, deceptive, restrained
S K I L L S
owen has always been a jack of all trades, yet a master of none. though not particularly useful, he is decent with a surfboard after nine years living next to the beach. however, when he moved to the city, it became much harder to surf on pavement so he switched over to a skateboard. on a more useful note, the man is a devil with a knife, having used his on people more than once. though he also transfers his talent into recreationally carving out figures in wood which he used to give to nate. now, he'll carve to pass the time but throw away the finished product.
along with that, owen has an impeccable skill for picking people apart and understanding what makes them tick. he uses this to manipulate and subdue his rivals and has in turn climbed to the top because of this skill.
along with that, owen has an impeccable skill for picking people apart and understanding what makes them tick. he uses this to manipulate and subdue his rivals and has in turn climbed to the top because of this skill.
Last edited by a moderator:
atomic
𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒. 𝒶𝒽𝒶𝒽𝒶. 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀.
?????? ???????
???????????????
??????
name ;; alexis vaccari
n.name ;; lexi, lex
age ;; nineteen
birthday ;; april 1st
gender ;; cis female (her, she)
sexuality ;; heterosexual
crush ;; "the boys love me"
role ;; siren
-
A P P E A R A N C E
-
faceclaim ;; lex, from up close and afar, looks a hell of a lot like sierra kusterbeck with maybe just a little more crazy in those eyes of hers.
height ;; lexi is not excessively tall, though she does stand above most of her "friends" at a healthy height of 5' 10" inches. she absolutely refuses to grow anymore for personal reasons.
weight and build ;; this firecracker doesn't get a very good appetite and wouldn't lift a weight even if it killed her. weighing 122 lbs, alexis is all slender curves and smooth limbs. she was blessed with a beautiful body, because what is a siren without a charming figure?
eyes ;; alexis has green eyes that even a meadow can grow jealous of. with flecks of gold as highlights, many people - specifically male - have gotten lost in them and she's quite aware of this fact. though, her eyes also give away the hint of insanity that she undoubtedly carries.
hair ;; probably the most extravagant feature on alexis is her hair. she keeps it pulled over to the right and there's never a set color to match her bangs and permanent blonde highlights. being a siren that hasn't really come to terms with being a siren, lex keeps her hair this way to possibly look more human. or maybe she just has a unique sense of style.
complexion ;; vaccari's skin is almost pale to a point where people might mistake her for a ghost. she'd be damn if she were ever actually one of those "creatures". however, her pale complexion looks almost silver and in the moonlight, people have said that she glowed. almost impossibly smooth and enticing to look at, alexis does her fair work keeping it that silver shade.
apparel ;; from leather jackets to revealing dresses and skirts, lex has a very dynamic sense of fashion. depending on whether she wants to feel attractive, she'll opt to wearing a tight fighting dress of sorts. though, most days you will see her in a leather jacket and an assortment of layers and jewelry. she sticks to wearing boots most days and whatever dark jeans she can find around her house.
-
P E R S O N A L I T Y
-
moral alignment ;; chaotic neutral
alexis vaccari is a girl who most people keep a wide stance from. she is unpredictable and most people believe that she is quite literally, clinically insane. she has a wide range of emotions that she willl sporadically alternate between and is almost impossible to handle. the girl begins most days as an overactive ticking time bomb, waiting for the moment to blow up. she's overally happy one second and in the next, she could be holding a cafeteria knife against your throat. nothing particularily seems to trigger these little manic episodes except for the mention of a boy she loved and would have loved to death. however, these days, most people wouldn't even know about him.
happy: when lex is happy, she showers people in a charismatic charm and a loving spirit. the girl is almost childish, awed about everything and anything. the girl has a smile that could light up the world and a laugh that could make the rain halt in midair. however, her enjoyment of things around her is not to a point where it becomes overbearing. she is merely excitable and if you're with her, you'll most likely fell compelled to happiness too.
neutral: there are moments when alexis is nothing but the person they say she was before she disappeared. here is a girl who you could meet on any street. she laughs when she's supposed to. she regards other people and knows when to keep her distance. in a way, alexis like this, is a formiddable human who might have made a perfect siren. she's intelligent and patient all while being action oriented. people rarely see this from her, though, and she wouldn't have it any other way.
angry: possibly the most dangerous time to be in this girl's vicinity is when she has a fire in her eyes and a twitch in her neck. irritable and deranged, you might be able to compare the girl to an animal with rabies. she has the idea in her head that she is above everyone and is most likely brandishing that fork with the full intentions of stabbing you with it. these episodes don't last long however, as she is hardly ever pushed to this extreme. she may occasionally act out violently, but unless she's actually angry - you have little to worry about.
alexis has always had a sense of grandiose about her and was delusional from birth due to a harsh upbringing. she believed herself to be somebody who could make a difference and was convinced that there were monsters out there in the world sent to destroy it. this false sense of grandeur has made her slightly paranoid as well as conscientious. she believes that everybody loves her and takes advantage of that. alexis also believes that every boy is in love with her and perhaps she wasn't too far off. sarcastic and obliviously insane, alexis vaccari believes that she's an angel. -
H I S T O R Y
-
family ;; alexis lived in a household that was never warm and didn't scream 'family'. her mother, scarlett vacarri, was the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen and she held herself with a delicate composure. scarlett would constantly bring home men and they would fill the house with 'sounds of love'. her mother didn't talk much, but when she did, it sounded like an angel's song was laced in every word. there were a few men that came and went as a routine, but nobody made such a father as the one named jonathan townsend. mr townsend adored alexis and often brought home dolls and other things every small girl could desire. he called her an angel's blessing and constantly suggested that lexi sing. "Your mother has a beautiful voice, little angel. Will you sing?" her mother was never around to hear the talks that this townsend fellow had with her daughter. this was the only family that alexis had ever known.
she is primarily american, but her scarlett has said once or twice that her mother came from paris
months passed by and so did the nameless men that came and went. the only returning face became that of jonathan townsend's with his same warm eyes and chocolate words. though, as much as he willed alexis to sing, the sweet girl refused. "mom doesn't like it when i sing." and she did this every day until townsend came over when her mother was out at the parlors. lex, let him in and they talked like any other day when he asked her to sing again. he prompted just a little song, and convinced her that her mother wouldn't hear. of course, the seven year old bit her lip but began to sing a song as sweet and soft as a dove. he responded by smiling sickly as if he'd confirmed something after years of wondering.
he stuck around and they decided to bake cookies until scarlett got home. from outside the glamorous mansion, scarlett came in with a beautiful smile. "you're baking cookies?" she mused, raising a brow suspiciously. alexis smiled back, "jonathan is helping me."
alexis would never forget the color that drained from her features and she looked around for the man who couldn't be found. the night afterwards was one that would light a fuse in the little siren's head. townsend appeared back in the kitchen with a small shake in his head and a content smile twisting his features. "i couldn't have known for sure until she sang to me, scarlett. it really is a shame you monsters are so beautiful."
blood. alexis still has nightmares of blood. she has nightmares of fire and screams. jonathan's screams as she sang while she killed the man who killed her mother. she had such beautiful voice and tears couldn't keep the angels from joining her. light from the fire illuminated those tears while she watched that glamorous mansion burn with the demons trapped inside.
and every day, those nightmares ravaged the girl's head. questions consumed her every waking hour. cold nights on the streets turned into 'hot' nights in hell. until she began to sing, attracting men from their homes and baiting them where she could steal their money. by the time alexis turned nine, she was irrevocably broken. she skipped with joy at being alive while singing and attracting men who skipped with her. and when she was sane, she pulled the broken bits back together. when she was ten, she scammed her way into school. when she was fifteen, she began to discover the truth about herself and the man named jonathan townsend. she'd been living on the streets until she met a boy named Carter North. He gave her a place to stay when nobody else would, and she loved him as much as a siren was allowed to love the boys they captivated through song. but carter, carter had never lost himself to her song and she knew he was different.
his parents had been killed by townsend and his men when he was just a little younger than lexi. they killed them for being different - being monsters. "are you a monster?" she asked him one day in bed. he smiled and shook his head.
"are you?"
the question caught her off guard and the smile fell off her face. she had no idea what she was. she had no way of finding out befre she met carter, and she was afraid of the truth. they talked and by the end of the night, carter whispered in her ear lovingly, "have you ever heard of a siren?"
she learned everything from him. she learned that he was werewolf and the men that had ruined both their lives had been hunters. they learned to blend in together and be one with humanity. he would keep her sane enough to love him and she would sing to him until her voice was raw as he changed. together, the pair would have died together. instead, only carter died. and alexis broke for a second time. she still has no idea who killed carter but she's too insane to dwell on it. when alexis was seventeen, she spent a year in an asylum. when she was eighteen, she killed everybody in it and escaped.
and now, alexis is a 'normal' nineteen year old who'd come across people that bled like her and cried like her. she would laugh with them and be as normal as a siren could be. but her mind has since been shattered and only when she gets pulled back into her stable mind does she mourn and remember who she is. her other half's scream and cackle in her favor.
-
T R A I T S
-
vices ;; manipulative lex has always been one to get people to do what she wants. its how she was able to wesel her way into the education system and get food and clothing that were particularily nice for somebody living on the streets. narcissim when alexis is overjowed, she tends to act a little better than you. after all, if your delusional in the fact that you believe you can save the world, wouldn't you be a little full of yourself? stubborness lex is like a train that will head in one direction once its made. she has her beliefs and wont hesitate to force them down your throat. wildness this girl can be consumed by her emotions and not much can get in her way. she is almost uncontrolable as she lacked any sort of parental figure most her life. erratic along with being wild, alexis is unpredictable in how she'll react to the world around her. its best just to give her space if you feel at all odd about her behavior.
virtues ;; curiosity sometimes, curiosity kills the cat but in this case - the cat kills her curiosity. alexis is drawn to fascinating things and ideas like a child to candy. this aspect of her may seem a little too endearing seeing as she's insane. fortitude alexis has been through a lot in her life and nothing much can scare her or put her off her game. she can hold her own in a battle of wits or fists and you should be more worried about yourself. reliable if aexis said she will do something, she'll do it, no matter the cost. this makes her quite a reliable friend to lean on whether you need to take down an army or confide about lost love. determined alexis is determined to make something of herself and she always has been. she craves to know why there are so many people like her in hiding. she wants to be the one who helps everybody though she usually forgets to help herself. enthusiasm and among aall of this, lexi does it with a cheerful heart and a nyperactive existence. passionate, there's nothing she wont put a little of herself into and is always excited to move along.
quirks ;; first of all, nobody can explain it but alexis has an odd obsession with chocolate pudding. most people think its probably because there's something wrong with her head and they would moste definitely be right about that.
the girl also loves to sing, shocker - coming from a siren. but she really loves music and is talented with more than one instrument such as the violin, piano, and guitar.
-
S K I L L S
-
words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words
-
O T H E R
-
words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words
atomic
𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒. 𝒶𝒽𝒶𝒽𝒶. 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀.
????? ??????
???????????????
??????
name ;; jayce atkins
n.name ;; jay
age ;; 24
birthday ;; feb 29/pisces
gender ;; cis male (he, him)
sexuality ;; heterosexual
crush ;; "yeah right"
role ;; n/a
-
A P P E A R A N C E
-
faceclaim ;; we're looking at jean-luc bilodeau when you're looking at jay. the resemelance is simply uncanny
height ;; jayce is ridiculously tall and was blessed with long legs since he was a small little bloke. he stands at around 6'3" and uses this height to his advantage more often than not
weight and build ;; this playboy is particularly fit from his time in the military even if he kept his slim and slender build. he was always sort of a green bean even after all of the hard work and body building. jay weighs about 173 pounds at the moment.
eyes ;; jayce atkins has the eyes of a natural born lady killer. warm enough you can melt in them, his dark brown gaze is accompanied by flecks of gold. there's life in those eyes and even though you know he has stories hidden behind them that are best left untold, you will undoubtedly lose yourself if you stare too long
hair ;; the man is almost a bit too finicky about his hair and he has since developed an odd habit of moving a hand up to fix it. he can't be blamed if you knew the reasoning but since the military, jay's hair has stuck up in points and has a sort of carefree attitude. brown with streaks of blonde, his hair probably contributes the most to the idea that he's a class A douchebag
complexion ;; long days spent out in the sun and outside, jay has developed a natural tan to go along with his party animal look. his skin is spotless as he spends a fair amount of time making sure it stays that way, though, he never really had to worry about acne as a kid. lucky him, yeah?
apparel ;; flannels over white shirts. that his style and occasionaly he'll wear a leather jacket over a white shirt. he doesn't put too much thought into his clothing for the day since clothes had never been that important to him. when he was still in highschool, he wore gagues for a year as a dare but the evidence of that has since faded away. he usually goes for plain jeans, sometimes darker colors like black or gray depending on his shirt.
noticeable features ;; years in the military have done well to his body and he ha gotten a scar or two while away. however, one scar in particular was inflicted on him when he was at home. the large and unsightly scar is seemingly split across his upper right chest and it'll be the first thing you notice if he were to take his shirt off. don't bother asking about it, though. he'll tell you it was a badger attack and change the subject.
-
P E R S O N A L I T Y
-
moral alignment ;; chaotic good
first and foremost, jayce atkins is most likely the happiest and most content person you'll ever know. though he wasn't always like that but you'll have to read his history to see what changed him. jay is the man that is effortless in everything he does and will do everything with a smile that costs him nothing. he has a clear outlook on life that can't be countered by the people around him. well adjusted, jayce is happy when he's happy, sad when he's sad, and angry when he's angry. there's hardly ever an in between when it comes to him. this may sound a bit exhausting, but to be honest, this sort of optimism tends to be quite refreshing.
he holds himself just as effortlessly as he seems and is always quick to spit out a witty response to a question. a bit absentminded at times, jayce is the one who's head is stuck in the clouds. he almost makes everything around him look more colorful than it actually is and will go to the ends of the earth for the people he cares about. if he cares about you, then you know you've done something right because even though jay can make friends with the devil himself, he has an almost distant view on humanity. this makes him far more complex than what you might see on the surface.
to put it simply, jayce atkins loves people but he doesn't really love a person. he can get a bit sour at the mention of love as a thing, and he personally doesn't believe in it. now, it hasn't been an issue in a long time, but there's one more thing you should know about this boy. there are times and situations where 'just jayce' becomes one of two things.
overly jayce is the guy that can race the sun and win if he set his mind to it. he will be impulsive and his thoughts become sporadic and inconsistent. keeping him still is like trying to keep up with a child in an amusement park. he could rule the world and he would want to rule it by your side. there's a wonder and a spirit that can't be rivaled when jay rises to this peak of enthusiasm. however, overly jayce is usually followed by somebody that he's deathly afraid of.
hardly jayce is the guy that comes out every once a couple months or so. he's the side of jayce that reminds him how broken he and the world really is. he'll stay in his bed and his appetite will fail to a point where he begins to look sick. the blood drains from his face and he has a tendency to think dark thoughts about life. there's not many people that can pull him out of this hole and more often than not, jay eventually musters up the impossible strength to pull himself out
whether he's just jayce, overly jayce, or hardly jayce - this boy is the man that people fall in love with without him trying. he's the king of the social ladder, and he doesn't even know how he got there. he simply wants to exist and watch people in this game we call life. this infatuation with people has made him such an optimistic spirit and you'd have to try very hard to hate him. not saying there aren't people that hate him. he has plenty of enemies - more than you'd think but the secrets behind those brown eyes will remain secrets unless you ask.
-
H I S T O R Y
-
family ;; jayce only remembers his family from when he was a young bloke. his mother, theresa had always been an employee that works in a company where they manufactured weapons for the vietnam war and late WWII. his father worked in the military and was missing most of his life. they always seemed a bit distant except for the times they would take their son out to the fire range where he developed a passion for all things 'fire power'. his parents never spoke about any other family and to this day, jay doesn't know if he even has any. all he knows is that his parents come from a long line of americans and maybe a bit of italian mixed in. he doesn't really care about the details
jayce started out any normal boy with maybe a little different family but that couldn't be helped. they were busy people and he was a happy child. it wasn't until he was about seven years old that both his parents mysteriously disappeared and he was left an orphan. thrown into the foster care system at a young age, he became somewhat of an unpleasant child who seemed just a bit too stubborn for his own good. many parents thought his strange infatuation with firearms was odd and it turned quite a few families away when they found discovered this about him. jay had always been in his own world and only found a steady home with a young woman that saw him differently than the rest. she was a quirky lass with an adventurous spirit and became the best mom a young kid like jayce atkins could ask for. her husband was a lot like jayce in more ways than one and he almost seemed restless with the life he had. together, the duo ended up adopting jayce - who took up the last name atkins - and he was spared the life of a foster kid. the married couple loved each other more than anybody would know and that's why it hurt so bad when the father left. jayce was probably more broken than his "mom" was at the time as he'd lost another father. but deep down, jayce couldn't say much as he thought he understood why donovan left. the man was looking for more and would never be satisfied.
this turn of events made jay's frequent mood swings more apparent and he was eventually diagnosed with bipolar disorder. it wasn't often that he would succumb to episodes but events triggered them every once in a while. time passed and even through his episodes, he was able to make friends like it was nothing because of a personality that seemed almost too refreshing. he was a charismatic and bright child and would have stayed that way had it not been for the new man in town. gabriel married courtney atkins and jay was able to see through the marriage for what it was. after his mom married for money, jay's image of love began to get more twisted than was healthy for a learning and growing pubescent. gabriel was a harsh man with strict policies and willed jayce to be the perfect gentleman. borderline abusive, gabriel treated jay horribly and merely kept the boy out of view when he was having his manic or depressive episodes.
jay relied on school to keep that winning smile on his face and even though it was hard, you would never end up any the wiser on his home conditions. the friends that he made in high school stuck with him even though they have no idea what went on in his head. he was supposed to be happy and had a responsibility to make others happier. he was quick to the top of the social ladder at his school and with that status came his undeniable ability to flirt and pick up girls like a hobby. he was always up front with them and even treated every girl like a gentleman in letting them know there was no chance at anything more than a one night stand. something about this honesty balanced with chivalry made it easy to become what some people would call a "man whore". but it was simple, jayce atkins didn't believe in love and he sure has hell wouldn't be the sucker that fell for or in it.
while the rest of his friends stayed in town or did other things, jay had made up his mind before high school. as soon as he was out, he joined the military in a special ops team and lost connections with everybody back home. friends became a pleasant memory and his family became a bitter sweet fantasy. he was hardened after long years of everything he had to endure as a child. he became one of the best sharpshooters on the force and was frequently sent across the seas to operate with his partner, a man going by the name julian denmark. the two of them quickly became as close as brothers and while jayce opted to be serious and to the point in everything that needed to be done - jules was his backbone.
while in the special ops team, jayce was the perfect soldier who relied on a perfect track record and some people called him a robot, everyone but jules. countless missions completed and a list of deaths by jay's sharp eye and trigger happy finger, everything was good for about four years while he was away. disaster struck him just after he turned twenty-three but something about that disaster changed jayce atkins forever. he can't say what happened as the details are strictly classified and painful. but when jay shot that bullet into julian's heart, he was able to lay everything to rest. perhaps a bit detached from the experience, jay became the person that people could fall in love with all over again. from heartless and action oriented to effortless and free roaming, jay returned to the states and reconnected with his dear friends.
he's still just as infatuated with guns and explosives as he was before and some of the things he gets himself into can be questionable at best. but you'll never find a more well adjusted fool gliding through the streets of the city. how the hell anybody could do that is a mystery that most people would kill to find out and he can only laugh.
-
oh, im gonna mess this up
-
m trait ;; optimist
+ traits ;; charismatic, charming, witty, dynamic, caring, empathetic, determined, reliable
= traits ;; noncommital, outspoken, unhinged, absentminded, smooth, unhurried, impressionable
+ traits ;; impulsive, egocentric, childish, unpredictable, stubborn, irresponsible, self-indulgent
quirks ;; possibly one of the most noticeable thing about him is how much he's fascinated with the human race. more often than not, jay will be the one throwing parties just so he can play matchmaker and observe social interaction. he's the one that prefers to be on the sideline all while being the main instigator and has quite a talent for it.
along with that, you've probably heard before, but jay has almost a borderline fetish for guns and he cant take one apart and put it back together again in less than a minute. if you were to picture the happiest jayce in the world, you might see him with an HK45 pistol in one hand a girl in another.
the last thing you will definitely experience after meeting him is this simple little question. "if you could bring three things to an abandoned island, what would you bring?" he uses this question as a way to determine whether somebody is worth his time. if not, he has absolutely no problem leaving them behind.
habits ;; jayce tends to move his hand up to fix his hair whenever he's nervous and this started shortly after gabriel moved in. its subtle but if you pick up on it, you can probably tell that somethings wrong with him.
along with that, the boy nearly always has a pen or pencil on his person and hell be spinning it expertly through his fingers on an hourly basis. this is due mainly to the fact that he grows bored easily and he always needs something to preoccupy himself.
lastly, he has the habit of rambling on and on or start spacing out in a conversation. his head is too far in the clouds for him to keep on track with any single conversation.
-
oh, this is just my luck
-
skills ;; jay has a wide variety of skills due to his four years in the service. but none could possibly compare to his hawk-ike gaze when its behind the sight of a gun. he knows everything there is to know about weapons and nobody is a match for him when he has a pistol in his hands
next would be his undeniable ability to take in information, useless or otherwise, and storing it in his head. this makes him quite a fantastic storyteller as well as an agent. with an almost photographic memory, jay didn't really need to focus to stay on top of his grades back in school.
his last skill would be the fact that he has a way with words that help him make friends in strange places. he's a socialite down to the core and barely has to break a sweat when it comes to climbing up any social ladder. this skill has been something that has followed him around his entire laugh and he denies that its anything special.
weaknesses ;; as said in his history and personality, jay was diagnosed with bipolar II disorder and it wasn't strange with this to have adhd as well. not as big of an issue as it was when he was younger, it still makes things difficult and he always has to be careful around things that might trigger an episode.
as well as this he is quite impressionable and has a tendency to fall into the routine of following orders. as stubborn as he is, jay will always have that part of him that is undeniably one: a perfect son and two: a perfect soldier.
-
over and over and over again
-
[media]
[/media]
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
no slide
-
RP EXAMPLE (LONG)
-
I am on a horse. In his stupidly long lifespan, Zeveran had never once ridden a horse before in his life since the prospect of such ridiculous notions were simply that: ridiculous. He had legs. He did not have eyes. Hence, Zev was the kind of man who was overly satisfied with what he did have. And the idea that a giant hell beast was currently breathing and living between his legs was increasingly something he was not fond of. "Are you sure that these beasts are safe to ride?" The question as to whether or not this girl was a demon was becoming harder to distinguish the longer he felt her presence. So many humans road horses as if they depended solely on the creatures but Baz didn't even know what they truly looked like. He had no concept of what anything looked like and explaining things to the man was near impossible. How would you describe a horse to a man who had only seen vague shadows of the things around him since he'd been born?
Baz had once described a dog to him using words but until the younger Zeveran had actually gotten up the courage to touch the useless thing, he had no way to tell what sharp, fluffy, or jagged was supposed to 'look' like. And as soon as he'd brought his hands away, it was like his sight was taken from him all over again. Unfortunately, Baxter had ended up killing the dog later when it got bit by some forest predator and came back violent and out of its mind. That was the first time he'd seen what red looked like on his own hands and it was also the day he fell in love with the color. It stood out so perfectly against anything and he could see it every time he needed to just by killing somebody when ordered - that was something that Baz had promised him. He grasped a concept of what 'sharpness' looked like when he felt it cut into his flesh by a blade. Well obviously it had been one of the best ways to describe sharpness... until it wasn't.
"Baz. What does this plant look like?" Ten year old Zeveran had asked when Baz had come back from his routine trips to whoever the hell knows. Hell. Probably. "Its sharp boy. Dont tou- Zeveran! You dalcop!" Unfortunately, the sharp 'plant' that Zeveran had tried to get a feel of was a desert cactus from somewhere Zeveran had never gone to. It was too long a travel for the young and worthless demon but apparently, this cactus was vital for Baz's apothecary store. He was soon to find out that sharp was too vague a term. It was used to describe hair, facial features, voices, and apparently... desert plants. It was impossible for him to grasp a concept of what things really looked like without touching it which was perhaps why his hands were the most beat up feature on his person. And this stupid horse... he couldn't tell what it looked like from feeling it. He wondered if it had sharp teeth and glowing eyes. It was definitely large enough to imagine blade like teeth and smokey hair. When the monster ran, he saw the smoke following behind their necks and backside. It was intriguing and terrifying. Not to mention the noises they made. His house was close to a farm and the horses would keep him up at night, knowing that the giant creatures were restless when the stars came out. Its when he heard them the loudest. Or perhaps they were always that loud and night just allowed for their growls to carry. All of these perceptions stayed locked in his head the moment he tried to remember why he was riding one of the monsters in the first place.... Wait. How had she tamed this thing? No. Go back. You were literally heading in the right direction two seconds ago. What direction was tha-Oh... hello.
His heart leapt out of his chest when the demoness clambered up on top of her hellhound in front of him and the thing started moving. His feet should have been on the ground but instead of freaking out, he was trying to decide what to do with his hands. The man was far too close to falling off her horse and he didn't quite fancy the idea of grasping this thing's haunches to keep himself upright and stable. That was a horse pun. Baz would have made that pun. And I think he always expected me to laugh at them. I wonder if he knows I make those humorous quips even now. Where was Baz? He didn't know. But boy did he want too. He had no idea how he was going to get back home from wherever this loudmouthed demon was taking him. She definitely didn't act like one. There was too much emotion in her voice but maybe she was a different type of demon. Maybe she didn't come to this world to kill people. The fact that she wasn't going back to the main city did better to assure him, but his knife was feeling very unused lately and he was itching to fix that. He didn't know who to kill anymore without Sebastian Sallis, and whatever he did now was meant to keep him deathly preoccupied and busy. What did a mentally deficient blind man do on his free time?
Not much.
What did you expect? He was mentally deficient. And partially blind.
You try living a decently normal and exciting life with that combination. Its hard.
But he sure as hell tried to the best of his abilities. It was kind of a shame when anybody who saw Zev would run away. It thrilled him to an irrational extent when he heard the names they'd come up for him. Zev the Daemonfiend. Redhand Baxter. Even Shadoweye had a ring to it even if it was insensitive to his feelings and disability in every sense of the word. That thought was ironic because he didn't feel anything other than physical pain or what he needed to feel according to the task Baz sent him on. If he needed to, the man could be charming, warmhearted, casual, or even a monster. But when no specific guise had been set up for him, he went simply as Zev. A straight face and a hollow voice. No emotion because those were ninety percent ill-advised. It felt weird to take a human's life with a smile on his face. He was a demon, not a sociopath. 'Sociopath' was a term reserved for humanity so he wouldn't smile when he worked. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't scowl or screw up his lips in disgust. He would simply kill and take what needed to be taken. He had to feed himself and humanity needed to pay the price for what they'd done to demons like him and Sallis.
What is... blehhgh.. His mind was gone again as it always was and he didn't know when he'd ended up wrapping his arms around the demoness' waist in order to keep him from falling. Zeveran might have taken time to enjoy it, if not for her wonderfully red hair spoiling his mood when it got stuck in his face. He would have loved to tell the hair to behave like his own cleanly cut locks, but females did not like to listen to reason. Needless to say, he figured something as stupidly inanimate as hair would not obey either. Ignoring his problems, Zev heard the dogs far before she brought them up and what was left of his heart began to melt some at the idea. He had a weird fixation with the beasts but at the same time, feared everything about them. They were unpredictable and he never could tell when one was about to attack him. So, as much as wanted to run from them when they approached at a fast pace - he ended up embracing all dogs lovingly.
With a knife in the heart.
Every second was unbelievably heartwarming in those moments between him and mans' best friend. The city children tended not to think the same. He could tell by their sick laughter... maybe. Or they'd been was sobbing. Zev found it hard to tell the difference. Finally the horse was stopping and he snaked his arms away from the girl's waist, all too eagerly leaping off the massive creature when he could. "I did not like that but I could not voice my opinion on the matter. Your hair was in my mouth. Thank you for that," with a face so dang serious and straight, nobody outside his own head would have been able to tell if that had been dry humor or if he was just being disturbingly truthful. Baz would have known it was the latter for some odd reason. He was an excellent judge in character - even Baxter's limited one. "Please never let me ride your horse again. I like a grounded experience. And you are massively mistaken. I love dogs. And the mere minutes I spend with them are quite enjoyable. It is a shame that we always part on much different terms. But the affection is there, I can assure you. Hmm." he stopped talking and completely began to disregard the woman's presence like he had been doing for quite some time now. Yes. Even on the horse, she was pleasantly placed far from his mind. Obviously.
And now he was standing God knows where, with approximately three dismembered thumbs, three stolen hunks of ram, and a loaf of bread in the satchel he'd been carrying - all of which would look blurringly lovely on his dining table. Well. Most of it. He need to send those thumbs to certain people. Unfortunately, he reserved the vases for roses rather than fingers and his shackled guests tended to be quite perturbed when things like fingers were left carelessly on the table. Baz always got unbelievably frustrated when he did things like that. "I do not know how to get home because I neglected to tell you that I have to find the blacksmith's before I can find my way back. It is a route that I have memorized quite well. But it seems... I am... in trees. Is that your home?" His eyes narrowed as he tried to make out the shabby structure, furthermore failing to make out anything other than a slightly blurry shabby structure. "I will stay and eat your tea and drink your biscuits and, tomorrow, we can find Baz as expected. He tends to not like when I don't come back. Er... did I say drink biscuits? Because that is not what you do with biscuits. Nor tea." he had been pivoting around in place for quite a while now, turning in circles and trying to get in everything he could with the senses he had. It was quiet here except for the dogs he heard farther away. The trees had a way of speaking to him when the wind shifted through the branches. It relaxed him and soon his shoulders hunched and the man was yawning. Where am I again? When he turned around again, he had to do a double take on the figure that stood there. "Who are you? Wait. Never mind. I believe I was offered tea. I have ram... and fingers. But mostly ram. Forget about the fingers."
-
RP EXAMPLE (MED)
- He remembered a long talk he had had with Nathan almost too long ago. From early in evening to late in the morning, it was the last talk before Owen left home. He could have laughed at the question his little brother asked him that time. "What's the worst thing about being a werewolf?" There could have been plenty of answers and Owen had told him, "the aggression." But that had since changed for more than one reason and now he could only grumpily agree on a new worst - especially since he joined this pack a week ago. If he could go back, He'd tell Nathan - The mind links. It was like a nonstop channel going off in his head and the voices weren't considerate of each other in any way. One after another, voices of others caused his lips curled to reveal a deadly row of fangs. And who he could possibly reply to first was automatically lost on him and his claws dug into the earth in frustration. It's not like he could shut it off either and anybody was free to invade his head and make it a freaking catastrophe of confusion. The first voice was easy because he could see the wolf that belonged to it and he narrowed those piercing eyes of his in response, "Espinosa, if you'd put that inquisitively curious head of yours to good use - you'd be able to smell the deer that may or may not have just been scared off by your sorry pelt." In a way, if a wolf could glare - he would have been in her direction, "And oh... by all means - let me move five feet in a different direction so I can walk around you. Wait.... Yes. That's right. You heard me - you would be surprised at what we, werewolves, can accomplish when we put our minds to it. Unless you're just here for a story. Once upon a time, there was a mindless little warrior female and a most definitely mindless male warrior. Both of them decided to go kill a deer so the esteemed and highly exalted delta could go see what the HELL everybody else wants with that poor ba****d." And just as quietly as he had come, he walked off - muttering things in his own head to himself about annoyances and wishes that could never possibly come true. One being to be back in his own dark streets. The world he could slink through as a mutt with one purpose - a purpose that was hidden from every single one of these pack members. Lucio - he had no idea how much that alpha knew about him but he hardly cared. Lucio was a man that Owen could trust just as much as expect betrayal from. There was neutral ground between the two of them that neither cared to speak of. The fact was - Lucio needed him and he needed that devil just as much, for the time being. He threw effort into the painful transition between his wolf form and his human form - something that he knew wasn't normal. So damn painful for him and his head felt like he was breaking apart. If anybody knew the effort it took for Owen to change - they could use that as a weakness anytime they wanted. He let his back fall against the tree in human form and he raised a brow at nothing when the alpha's voice rang out in his already throbbing head. Oh yeah - thanks for adding a pack full of voices to accompany his own annoying thoughts to attack his broken head. But dead eyes thought hard on Lucio's request - order - who knew. After a long while of silence as he contemplated answering or not, he finally did, "Pokemon? Ohhh, Lucario, my respect has fallen so damn low. Wait - its already at rock bottom. Oops." See, Owen has always had a problem with authority. It didn't matter if it was police or alphas. Owen treated them just the same. And he treated them like he treated every human on this planet. Not. Worth. His. Sincerity. Its not as if he thought he was better than them - God, not by a long shot. But he couldn't bring it in him to give even the smallest of damns. Perhaps it would have been smart to brown nose the alpha but Griffith was no pup with a tail between his legs and there was a large part of him that figured Lucio hadn't expected any differently. He continued just as easily as he had before, "But no. I'm not busy. Where's my target location big guy." And that's when Owen let out the most pained of frustrated groans when another voice popped into his head unwelcomed. He turned around and hit his head repeatedly against the tree he'd previously been resting on. And the voice that it belonged to didn't help. The impervious duo that couldn't even have been paid to just leave him alone. He began to rube his temple before responding, "Tatum. Jesus. What. what do you want this time? Get out of my head you insufferable she witch. Skye's lucky she didn't get her snout bit off. Can I ask you something? Serious question honey," The hair fell over his eyesm casting it in darkness, "What in Lord's name do you want from me? A dinner for three? A romantic movie where I sit on the opposite side and you two can giggle your lives away after I fall asleep from the chick flick you're undoubtedly going to make me watch. Maybe just a compliment? Wow Tatum, you mind link is crystal clear today. I can barely hear myself think. Well done girl. Its crisssssp."
-
RP EXAMPLE (SHORT)
- He smirked at the girl, flashing a bit of a crooked smile as he leaned in the length of an inch, "Alas, I'll admit it. That was a really great dream. You were fantastic." And the he went back to his easy stance, slipping his fingers back into his pockets as was his default position. He was a docile dude, one that leaned, rested, and supporting himself when at all possible. And pockets were exceptional little places to rest his arms. He listened with a mild interest at best as she rambled on about Harry Potter. Nodding every now and again, he took a moment to study her face and lips while she talked. Not in a, 'wow, this girl is beautiful' way, but a much more Andrew style 'I wonder when how soon I could get her to read me a bedtime story in my room' sort of manner. Andrew didn't go to 'romance' when he looked at people. Though, at this school, who did? Well, there was that Miles 'bloke' and a few in between. But ninety percent of the males in this school were.. let's face it, glorified man 'horses'. At least Andrew recognized this about himself. About half a minute later, he realized that she had stopped talking and his mind was still in 'candy land'. He blinked, cleared his throat, and looked her in the eyes to respond, "That's alright, I couldn't possibly watch Dobby die a second time much less stomach having it read to me." He'd been messing with her, obviously. He wasn't living under a rock and had actually gone to see the movies as they came out. Granted, he hadn't seen the first three as he'd been too young and far too cool to slum it with the geeks. But the call of theatre got to him eventually and it wasn't too bad. He wouldn't go as far as saying reading them would benefit his intellect though. He would rely on the countless hours of school to contribute to his brain cell count. "But listen, if I ever get to watching the first three, I'll be sure to let you know and you could whistle me a tune of HP knowledge, yeah?"
Last edited by a moderator:
atomic
𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒. 𝒶𝒽𝒶𝒽𝒶. 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀.
????????? ????????
??????
name ;; lawerence townsend
n.name ;; law
age ;; nineteen
birthday ;; aug 8
gender ;; cis male (he, him)
sexuality ;; heterosexual
crush ;; "only one?"
role ;; barista
-
A P P E A R A N C E
-
faceclaim ;; rj king
height ;; 6'1"
weight and build ;; law doesn't weigh much despite his healthy build. his height and muscle under a lean body leaves him at 166 lbs
eyes ;; his eyes are almost a golden brown. lighter rather than darker and always filled with a hint of
mischief
hair ;; law will never leave th house without his hair looking perfect and his parents wont let him either. because of this, he hair is usually pulled back and kept neat. blond and maybe even platinum at times
complexion ;; he's not as tan as he would like as he only goes out during the night and is stuck inside during his days. smooth skin and only occasionally has to deal with that human thing called acne
apparel ;; he wears nice clothes no matter what hes doing and that only expected if you knew his family. suits while he needs to be formal and fine quality shirts, shoes, and pants.
-
P E R S O N A L I T Y
-
moral alignment ;; neutral good
when you meet law, the first thing you'll take note of is his sense of spirit that is primarily poured into his passion to find somebody to love. he's a crazy lad who more than often messes things up because of his blatant carelessness. he's a hopeless flirt and is that boy who you'd picture hearts popping up in place of his eyes when he talks to somebody of the opposite gender. however, stubborn and meticulous, law can be a bit of a hot-head though and takes offense to things easily. he counters this fact by being charismatic and energetic on most days. bit of a 'closet' party animal even if he does a good job showing it by his elegant composure.
likes ;; he enjoys midnight strolls and finding odd places to get away for a while, the man is obsessed with musicals to a point where he might actually forget about life, he loves reading anything he can get his hands on, loves thunderstorms and lightning, is secretly a victim to loving alcohol and drugs (oops)
dislikes ;; he hates the way he has to compose himself when in public, law dislikes public transportation - with a passion, law also dislikes responsibility as he tends to mess things up
fears ;; the boy is mostly afraid of his family, he's afraid of isolation, being forgotten -
B A C K G R O U N D
-
first of all, it should be noted that lawerence townsend should never have been born. however, the little bastard child didn't really have much of a say when he was conceived. the details behind the scandal are kept as secret as you'd expect considering that his father is the ceo of a pharmaceutical firm and his job relied on all the contents of his misdeeds to be locked away behind a vault. anthony townsend spend large amounts of money keeping the press away and in the end, everything was kept quiet as long as the ceo agreed to keep his new son quiet. law's mother knew fully of the affair but his parents decided it would be the best option financially to stay together. besides, their other son, christian townsend, was still growing and didn't need that sort of weight on his shoulders.
law's older brother by two years went to a private school and got everything that the heir of a multi million dollar company deserved. law wasn't so fortunate. because his existence was to be more of a secret when he was younger until everything blew over, he never went to any sort of public or otherwise private school. he was treated fairly at home and despite the fact that he would never hold any rights to inheritance, his parents held law to the same standards as their eldest son. having little to no friends, it was a miracle that law remained as happy as he is today. nothing seemed to break his spirits and his presence always made a room brighter. the servants and tutors in the townsend estate were his closest friends. along with the employess at the estate, the townsends were fans of bengal cats. the expensive cat breed were quickly favorites of law and he spent lots of time tending to the felines.
he was taught how to act, talk, and dress like a gentleman. he was taught math and other subjects sooner than others who attended a school. he was also seen in the kitchen, trying his hand on cooking. it was practically expected for any townsend to know how to make a decent company with class and character. he had a knack for mixing drinks - whether alcoholic or not and developed a passion for it. everything about his life was set down in stone by his parents and while he wasn't one to resent people, he only started to realize how dissatisfied he was when he watched christian bring home an intelligent and beautiful girl. it might have been the first time he discovered how jealous he was of everything chris would get.
this festering jealousy boiled for another month of him bringing that girl home until law started to look for his own life. when he was fifteen, he started sneaking out during late nights to experience new things. he tried drinking at sixteen and took up smoking soon after. however, despite these questionably unhealthy habits, law managed to keep himself clean but he also enjoyed his time more. at nights he partied and flirted, and when he returned to the estate early in dawn, he was the model bastard child of the townsend family. nobody was any the wiser or so he thought. when he was almost seventeen, an article was published in the news with the headline - "townsend family plus one! the identity of CEO anthony townsend's scandal, REVEALED!"
how was law supposed to know that the girl he was wooing would spill his entire story to the press? outraged and humiliated, his father was forced to spend generous amounts of money to keep his position. fortunately, he was able to keep his job but his reputation was finally destroyed and it was undoubtedly law's fault. though no harm befell the family in whole, law was immediately cut off from any inheritance he might have gotten after all his years of being a model son. he was informed that he would be leaving the estate as soon as he turned 21. since then, the boy was allowed to leave the estate as the cat was out of the bag but he spent every waking hour working and saving up.
his carelessness led him to losing several jobs and the positions he was able to hold became less and less dynamic. now, at the age of nineteen, he picked up an application to be a barista at an upstart little cat cafe. it couldn't be too bad, now, could it? he figured that if he didn't end up enjoying it, mr mistoffelees might love it enough for the both of them. mister, of course, was the young and dashing tom that quickly became law's favorite tiny and cunning companion
-
MR MISTOFFELEES
-
n.name ;; quaxo, mister
gender ;; male
appearance ;; mister is a dark brown cat who seemingly matches his owner in attractiveness. dark circles splash over the bengal's pelt and his long legs are always the cause of his attraction to higher altitudes. however, mister is a rather small bengal and doesn't seem to be getting any larger than he is right now even while nearing young adulthood. he has brilliant green eyes and an almost proportionately long tail.
-
P E R S O N A L I T Y
-
words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words
-
B A C KG R O U N D
-
words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words
atomic
𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒. 𝒶𝒽𝒶𝒽𝒶. 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀.
AGE 27 (24 pre-game)
GENDER male
OCCUPATION lmao - this boy dont work an honest job
HEIGHT 5' 7"
WEIGHT AND BUILD healthy/lean. 166 lbs
EYES bright green
HAIR mousy brown, soft, and curly
COMPLEXION huxler smokes, so he used to have a lot of acne. now though, after three years stuck in the game, he's cleared up but will always have some tissue scarring against his tanned darker skin.
-
R E A L ~ L I F E
-
personality ;; chaotic neutral
hux is a rotten egg if there ever was one. without an honest bone in his body, he can be a bit hard to get along with. he has a hard time caring about anybody but himself, which is probably how he found himself alone in the first place. having a natural talent to lie, steal, and con the clothes off somebody's back - huxler's rotten luck landed him stuck in a game he started playing at "a friend's" house. imagine that! he's a little less than suave but he makes up for his lack in social decency with an ego that could drown out the sun. that ego is mainly there to cover up the miles of insecurities and fears he brings to the table. first off, he hates blood. he's a fantastic runner from both his problems and the cops. has a phobia of the dark, snakes, heights, and spiders. since his brother kicked him out, hux has been making it on his own his whole life. who needs people when he can get things? hux. hux needs people. but he's too damn stubborn to admit it and it hints at a dark and lonely future.
motivation to play ;; huxler loves video games, but he's kind of poor? so he never got around to playing it until well after everybody else, with money, had bought the game and settled in. his friend bought the new console and hux hopped on thinking that alex wouldn't be home for a while longer. he's a bit of a freeloader and alex was getting sick and tired of having this irish wanker shacking up for free at his house. hux really just wanted to get under alex's skin when he hopped on to mess with his friend's account - instead he accidentally ended up making his own account. he certainly never would have made the mistake of playing if he knew that not an hour into messing around and getting his crappy Caelis killed twice, he'd be stuck inside his damn friend's video game. Now he's stuck, having been playing the game for less than a couple hours.
-
H I S T O R Y
-
history ;; huxler was born in ireland, to a family that was far too large and far too impoverished. it wasn't the most horrific backstory or even the saddest, by far. he currently has one older sibling and five younger siblings. his father, the town jackass, was pushed out of the family as soon as his older brother, locke, turned eighteen. the two oldest had very different ideas when it came to supporting their family. huxler turned to theft, the easiest and more importantly, the most entertaining way to make a buck. he'd always had kleptomanic tendencies, landing him in trouble almost weekly. from the age of twelve, he'd been snatching things off shelves and pocketing them. events came full circle when huxler turned 18 and was put under arrest for car burglary. He spent six months in jail and had a steep fine to pay off when he got out. by that point, locke was done with him. he's been sort of coasting from friend to friend, getting an odd job here and there. as soon as people take the bloke in, they're just as eager to throw him out. his lifelong friend, Alexander Torressi, a man operating on the higher functional end of the spectrum, finally gave in and offered up a room for hux in his apartment. he's been living there off and on for the past three years before he got trapped in the game. huxler has never changed much from when he was a kid to where he is now. in the game, he'll likely toss you a middle finger before helping you with anything. and he spends most of his time disconnected from his caelis, still feeling like this whole thing was entirely the universe telling him to f*ck himself.
-
I N ~ G A M E
-
username ;; kleptonaught69 (keep in mind, he never planned on playing the game for more than a few hours)
alias ;; klepto
frame-claim ;; limbo
party role ;; he'd try to stay out of any party but, support (if he were to join one*)
primary ;; xxx
secondary ;; xxx
melee ;; xxx
polarity ;; dark
thoughts on the incident ;; thoughts? thoughts?! he feels like the accident was a punch in the face and would say that he'd do anything to get the hell out of the game. but at the same time? out in the real world? huxler was a nobody and had solidly kept himself from making any real relationships. he doesn't have anything to go back to, and he doesn't have any real motivation to play the game. he's kind of just waiting for other people to solve the problem for him. in other words, huxler has long given up on a happy ever after in the game or outside of it. this isn't to say that he would ever accept defeat or anything, naw. hux looks out for himself and only himself. he's in this world for the long haul whether other people want him there or not.
desire to use the caelis ;; huxler doesn't really care? he goes out when he's bored, and i mean really bored. come on, the dude is five feet, seven inches tall in real life. the eight foot caelis is intimidating and he always comes back feel like he just destroyed a city, king kong style. he's all for video games, but being stuck in a game where your options are limited to 'fragile human body' and 'tanky monstrosity' in an alien world, he'd rather just stay in his own skin. maybe read a book... or something.
Last edited:
atomic
𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒. 𝒶𝒽𝒶𝒽𝒶. 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀.
AGE 27 (24 pre-game)
GENDER male
OCCUPATION lmao - this boy dont work an honest job
HEIGHT 5' 7"
WEIGHT AND BUILD healthy/lean. 166 lbs
EYES bright green
HAIR mousy brown, soft, and curly
COMPLEXION huxler smokes, so he used to have a lot of acne. now though, after three years stuck in the game, he's cleared up but will always have some tissue scarring against his tanned darker skin.
-
R E A L ~ L I F E
-
personality ;; chaotic neutral
hux is a rotten egg if there ever was one. without an honest bone in his body, he can be a bit hard to get along with. he has a hard time caring about anybody but himself, which is probably how he found himself alone in the first place. having a natural talent to lie, steal, and con the clothes off somebody's back - huxler's rotten luck landed him stuck in a game he started playing at "a friend's" house. imagine that! he's a little less than suave but he makes up for his lack in social decency with an ego that could drown out the sun. that ego is mainly there to cover up the miles of insecurities and fears he brings to the table. first off, he hates blood. he's a fantastic runner from both his problems and the cops. has a phobia of the dark, snakes, heights, and spiders. since his brother kicked him out, hux has been making it on his own his whole life. who needs people when he can get things? hux. hux needs people. but he's too damn stubborn to admit it and it hints at a dark and lonely future.
motivation to play ;; huxler loves video games, but he's kind of poor? so he never got around to playing it until well after everybody else, with money, had bought the game and settled in. his friend bought the new console and hux hopped on thinking that alex wouldn't be home for a while longer. he's a bit of a freeloader and alex was getting sick and tired of having this irish wanker shacking up for free at his house. hux really just wanted to get under alex's skin when he hopped on to mess with his friend's account - instead he accidentally ended up making his own account. he certainly never would have made the mistake of playing if he knew that not an hour into messing around and getting his crappy Caelis killed twice, he'd be stuck inside his damn friend's video game. Now he's stuck, having been playing the game for less than a couple hours.
-
H I S T O R Y
-
history ;; huxler was born in ireland, to a family that was far too large and far too impoverished. it wasn't the most horrific backstory or even the saddest, by far. he currently has one older sibling and five younger siblings. his father, the town jackass, was pushed out of the family as soon as his older brother, locke, turned eighteen. the two oldest had very different ideas when it came to supporting their family. huxler turned to theft, the easiest and more importantly, the most entertaining way to make a buck. he'd always had kleptomanic tendencies, landing him in trouble almost weekly. from the age of twelve, he'd been snatching things off shelves and pocketing them. events came full circle when huxler turned 18 and was put under arrest for car burglary. He spent six months in jail and had a steep fine to pay off when he got out. by that point, locke was done with him. he's been sort of coasting from friend to friend, getting an odd job here and there. as soon as people take the bloke in, they're just as eager to throw him out. his lifelong friend, Alexander Torressi, a man operating on the higher functional end of the spectrum, finally gave in and offered up a room for hux in his apartment. he's been living there off and on for the past three years before he got trapped in the game. huxler has never changed much from when he was a kid to where he is now. in the game, he'll likely toss you a middle finger before helping you with anything. and he spends most of his time disconnected from his caelis, still feeling like this whole thing was entirely the universe telling him to f*ck himself.
-
I N ~ G A M E
-
username ;; kleptonaught69 (keep in mind, he never planned on playing the game for more than a few hours)
alias ;; klepto
frame-claim ;; limbo
party role ;; he'd try to stay out of any party but, support
primary ;; xxx
secondary ;; xxx
melee ;; xxx
polarity ;; dark
thoughts on the incident ;; thoughts? thoughts?! he feels like the accident was a punch in the face and would say that he'd do anything to get the hell out of the game. but at the same time? out in the real world? huxler was a nobody and had solidly kept himself from making any real relationships. he doesn't have anything to go back to, and he doesn't have any real motivation to play the game. he's kind of just waiting for other people to solve the problem for him. in other words, huxler has long given up on a happy ever after in the game or outside of it. this isn't to say that he would ever accept defeat or anything, naw. hux looks out for himself and only himself. he's in this world for the long haul whether other people want him there or not.
desire to use the caelis ;; huxler doesn't really care? he goes out when he's bored, and i mean really bored. come on, the dude is five feet, seven inches tall in real life. the eight foot caelis is intimidating and he always comes back feel like he just destroyed a city, king kong style. he's all for video games, but being stuck in a game where your options are limited to 'fragile human body' and 'tanky monstrosity' in an alien world, he'd rather just stay in his own skin. maybe read a book... or something.
atomic
𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒. 𝒶𝒽𝒶𝒽𝒶. 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀.
-
H U X L E R
info
words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words
Last edited:
atomic
𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒. 𝒶𝒽𝒶𝒽𝒶. 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀.
-
H U X L E R 'hux' W A S H I N G T O N
character info
Huxler couldn't figure out whether the day was a 'stay in bed and sleep his problems away' kind of day, or a 'go out and play nice' sort of day. He was in his room as he usually was, though that wasn't to say he lived in his room. No, Hux hadn't been a caustic stow-away for a good solid year and a half now. He should honestly win an award or something. Get some damned recognition for being such a team player. Of course, this train of thought was simply comical and served him more in the path of tasteless humor than anything else. No, the boy was slowly growing into somebody that he hoped his elder brother could somewhat be proud of. It wasn't every day Huxler Washington was rolling around in a group of (more or less) like-minded people. He was free to share his inner most passions and feelings with other people - take full advantage of the very human concept called 'friendship'.
Yet, here he was, lying in his bed and staring at a ceiling, wondering how much he'd have to pay somebody to bring him some food and a humidifier for his 'room'. The man's room was something of a neat freak's worst nightmare. He held absolutely no value for cleanliness, and so it was stacked with things he'd found and 'picked up' along his three years in the game. He didn't even remember where half this stuff came from. It just sat in his room as inert as the man who'd brought it there. Some would say it might look like a dragon's lair as he certainly found himself grabbing shiny things over dull. There were a few random blades he would never dream of using on his nightstand, jewelry, and abstract objects he was kind of scared to touch (although he was pretty sure that the machine he'd stored away under his bed was some fancy alienesque blender). However, those who knew him would probably liken his room more akin to 'the public dump'. Because, aside from the miscellaneous clutter, he had clothes everywhere, half empty cartons of food, and empty bottles of whatever drinks he could find.
Hux rolled over on his stomach, burying a shaggy head of hair into his pillow when the announcement rolled through his room. He'd grown to both anticipate and resent the faceless man behind the announcements. But hey, he had to look at the bright side. When somebody was kind enough to tell you what to do, you didn't have to make decisions for yourself. And let's be honest, the boredom was quickly getting to Huxler Washington. It often got to him pretty quickly, always feeling the need to distract himself from.. well... himself. The man hopped onto his feet and scratched his thigh as he eyed the floor for any clothes that probably wouldn't smell. He found the white shirt he'd been looking for and slipped over a bright orange jumpsuit. He laughed at the irony of the color... Really, it suited him.
Actually getting to the room was pretty hard. He'd get distracted easily by some of the people eager to talk his ear off or humor one of his awful pick up lines. Huxler wasn't very popular here, but that didn't bother him a bit. When the man finally did reach the briefing hall, he'd made it in time to hear Lead make some offhand comment. It brought an instantly obnoxious smirk to the the klepto's lips. Taking inspiration from his childhood hero, John Bender, Huxler pulled up a chair as if arriving for detention. He immediately began to lift the front legs off the ground like an idiot. With a glance towards Lead, Hux cocked a brow and spoke in his heavy Irish accent, "What're you on about? Bane? Abusing her Caeles? Never. Besides, I'd be more worried about her abusing one of us, mate."
Over the years, he liked to think that he understood the girl better. Yet, he didn't - didn't really understand any of these people. He knew he cared about them, but wasn't it stupid to form these kinds of relationships inside of a video game they might get out of one day? He eyed the pilots in the room from his chair, biting his tongue thoughtfully until he had something to say, "In any case, I don't care what they want. Just as long I get to sleep in my own bed sometime soon." And yeah, he meant in the game. He'd long stopped verbally announcing his desire to go 'home home'. At some point, you only ended up sounding like a whiny child, and it was about time Huxler grew up.
Yet, here he was, lying in his bed and staring at a ceiling, wondering how much he'd have to pay somebody to bring him some food and a humidifier for his 'room'. The man's room was something of a neat freak's worst nightmare. He held absolutely no value for cleanliness, and so it was stacked with things he'd found and 'picked up' along his three years in the game. He didn't even remember where half this stuff came from. It just sat in his room as inert as the man who'd brought it there. Some would say it might look like a dragon's lair as he certainly found himself grabbing shiny things over dull. There were a few random blades he would never dream of using on his nightstand, jewelry, and abstract objects he was kind of scared to touch (although he was pretty sure that the machine he'd stored away under his bed was some fancy alienesque blender). However, those who knew him would probably liken his room more akin to 'the public dump'. Because, aside from the miscellaneous clutter, he had clothes everywhere, half empty cartons of food, and empty bottles of whatever drinks he could find.
Hux rolled over on his stomach, burying a shaggy head of hair into his pillow when the announcement rolled through his room. He'd grown to both anticipate and resent the faceless man behind the announcements. But hey, he had to look at the bright side. When somebody was kind enough to tell you what to do, you didn't have to make decisions for yourself. And let's be honest, the boredom was quickly getting to Huxler Washington. It often got to him pretty quickly, always feeling the need to distract himself from.. well... himself. The man hopped onto his feet and scratched his thigh as he eyed the floor for any clothes that probably wouldn't smell. He found the white shirt he'd been looking for and slipped over a bright orange jumpsuit. He laughed at the irony of the color... Really, it suited him.
Actually getting to the room was pretty hard. He'd get distracted easily by some of the people eager to talk his ear off or humor one of his awful pick up lines. Huxler wasn't very popular here, but that didn't bother him a bit. When the man finally did reach the briefing hall, he'd made it in time to hear Lead make some offhand comment. It brought an instantly obnoxious smirk to the the klepto's lips. Taking inspiration from his childhood hero, John Bender, Huxler pulled up a chair as if arriving for detention. He immediately began to lift the front legs off the ground like an idiot. With a glance towards Lead, Hux cocked a brow and spoke in his heavy Irish accent, "What're you on about? Bane? Abusing her Caeles? Never. Besides, I'd be more worried about her abusing one of us, mate."
Over the years, he liked to think that he understood the girl better. Yet, he didn't - didn't really understand any of these people. He knew he cared about them, but wasn't it stupid to form these kinds of relationships inside of a video game they might get out of one day? He eyed the pilots in the room from his chair, biting his tongue thoughtfully until he had something to say, "In any case, I don't care what they want. Just as long I get to sleep in my own bed sometime soon." And yeah, he meant in the game. He'd long stopped verbally announcing his desire to go 'home home'. At some point, you only ended up sounding like a whiny child, and it was about time Huxler grew up.
Last edited:
atomic
𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒. 𝒶𝒽𝒶𝒽𝒶. 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀.
Sydriel
NAME sydriel
NICKNAME syd
AGE bit rude to ask, innut? (appears 29)
ACCENT british
SPECIES/RANK guardian angel boi
EYES golden and kind of glowy
HAIR dark brown w/ brighter highlights
HEIGHT 6'4" (excessively tall)
BUILD lean but well muscled and toned, broad shoulders/skinny hips
COMPLEXION syd has almost perfect (slightly luminous) skin save for a large branded scar over his heart. he has a tattoo of the same mark on the back of his neck. only an angel of higher ranking would know what it means (and him, of course)
POSITIVE determined, loyal, compassionate, intelligent, brave, virtuous
NEUTRAL obedient, complex, emotional, outspoken, stubborn, prude
NEGATIVE abrasive, gullible, irritable, weak-willed, impulsive, clumsy
NICKNAME syd
AGE bit rude to ask, innut? (appears 29)
ACCENT british
SPECIES/RANK guardian angel boi
EYES golden and kind of glowy
HAIR dark brown w/ brighter highlights
HEIGHT 6'4" (excessively tall)
BUILD lean but well muscled and toned, broad shoulders/skinny hips
COMPLEXION syd has almost perfect (slightly luminous) skin save for a large branded scar over his heart. he has a tattoo of the same mark on the back of his neck. only an angel of higher ranking would know what it means (and him, of course)
-----------
PERSONALITY syd mostly walks around with a stick up his feathery ass. he's abrasive and quick to snap if pushed too far, especially by meddlesome demons. he appears stoic and reserved unless provoked, wherein the snapping with probably occur. if asked, he'll insist that he's never broken rank or disobeyed direct orders - but really? never? past the exterior, the angel is completely different than what his surface would show. but only a few have ever been able draw that side out of him.POSITIVE determined, loyal, compassionate, intelligent, brave, virtuous
NEUTRAL obedient, complex, emotional, outspoken, stubborn, prude
NEGATIVE abrasive, gullible, irritable, weak-willed, impulsive, clumsy
atomic
𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒. 𝒶𝒽𝒶𝒽𝒶. 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀.
SOLOMON NOX
NICKNAME Sol
AGE AND HEIGHT 25 y/o and 6’0”
BUILD Sol is a bit of a string bean, being thin and and tall.
ETHNICITY Sol is Russian and speaks it fluently, though he’s been living in the US for a long while now, so he’s lost his accent unless he purposefully uses it. Sol will still curse in Russian or if it ever became relevant flatter/endear.
EYES Black and unnerving, so he tends to keep them hidden behind sunglasses.
HAIR Obsidian and typically slicked back to hide the way it fluffs out. Originally, it is curly and medium length, but you wouldn’t know the way he keeps it pinned back and under control every day.
AGE AND HEIGHT 25 y/o and 6’0”
BUILD Sol is a bit of a string bean, being thin and and tall.
ETHNICITY Sol is Russian and speaks it fluently, though he’s been living in the US for a long while now, so he’s lost his accent unless he purposefully uses it. Sol will still curse in Russian or if it ever became relevant flatter/endear.
EYES Black and unnerving, so he tends to keep them hidden behind sunglasses.
HAIR Obsidian and typically slicked back to hide the way it fluffs out. Originally, it is curly and medium length, but you wouldn’t know the way he keeps it pinned back and under control every day.
-
F A M I L Y
-
FATHER Who? What? I never had a father. That’s ridiculous. (Roman Novakoski - deceased)
MOTHER Galina Novakoski - missing
SIBLINGS Iosif (ee-OH-sif) Novakoski (25) with his twin sister Nika (25). -
P O W E R
- VOID Sol can use the power of the void to pull things into his voidy realm from the physical realm. He can step through the void and appear somewhere else on the physical realm, though this is dangerous, and he only uses it to jumpy quickly through a fight. Sol fights by using his power to dismember, be-head, and swallow his enemies into the void. But since he hates blood on his suit, Sol's fighting style is mostly defensive and evasive, choosing to outsmart people. Or he'll use a good old fashioned pistol from a safe distance away.
-
P E R S O N A L I T Y
- Solomon thinks he is the absolute shit and works under the assumption that nothing and nobody can get in his way. He believes that he has the looks, the charm, and the sheer intelligence to wipe the floor of any competition. The man was practically born with a sort of elegance and ego. He gives off a suave business-like demeanor and would have at the modern world with the rest of the humans. Sol can be heartless and cruel at times, pushing himself to always force away his conscience to achieve his goals. But despite his almost trivial view of people’s rights and traditions, the man actually does have a heart. Why else would he allow his siblings to live? He cares deeply for very few things in his life, and the traditional ways of the Novakoski family was never one of those things. Neither was his father.
atomic
𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒. 𝒶𝒽𝒶𝒽𝒶. 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀.
BOOKER FRYE
NICKNAME Bo
GENDER Male
ROMANTIC ORIENTATION Homoromantic (closeted)
SEXUAL ORIENTATION Homosexual (closeted)
FACECLAIM Neels Visser (younger)
AGE, HEIGHT, AND WEIGHT 16 y/o . 5’11” (he's still growing). 142 lbs. (he's been held back)
BUILD Bo is a bit of a string bean, being thin and and tall. Though, since he goes running in the morning and spends time away from home at the gym, he's got a fair bit of muscle.
EYES Bright blue
PIERCINGS AND TATTOOS Booker has left ear pierced, no tattoos but he wants some
HAIR Blond and shaggy, it's rarely done in any particular style
FASHION He wears secondhand clothes from thrift shops or second-hand clothes from his older brother. Ripped/worn jeans and T-shirts. He also wears a variety of hoodies around and sticks to dark colors.
GENDER Male
ROMANTIC ORIENTATION Homoromantic (closeted)
SEXUAL ORIENTATION Homosexual (closeted)
FACECLAIM Neels Visser (younger)
AGE, HEIGHT, AND WEIGHT 16 y/o . 5’11” (he's still growing). 142 lbs. (he's been held back)
BUILD Bo is a bit of a string bean, being thin and and tall. Though, since he goes running in the morning and spends time away from home at the gym, he's got a fair bit of muscle.
EYES Bright blue
PIERCINGS AND TATTOOS Booker has left ear pierced, no tattoos but he wants some
HAIR Blond and shaggy, it's rarely done in any particular style
FASHION He wears secondhand clothes from thrift shops or second-hand clothes from his older brother. Ripped/worn jeans and T-shirts. He also wears a variety of hoodies around and sticks to dark colors.
-
P E R S O N A L I T Y
-
Booker is a big mouth and a bigger personality. Whenever he's in the room, he wants all eyes to be on him and has some kind of a story to tell. His friends all know that most of his stories are bullshit, but the way he'd tell them, you'd think he were leading a march against authority and bringing down the entire system. Booker hates to be talked down by authority or by people in his class. He's quick to result to using his fists to resolve conflicts, and sometimes he doesn't even need to be provoked to take some kind of simmering anger out on people. Usually, he sticks to a target few individuals, but anybody is equal in his eyes for a fight. Mostly Booker doesn't look angry since he's always sporting some dumb cocky smile. He loves to party around, drink, and smoke because that's just the sort of stuff he's been surrounded with. Nobody would know that Booker is insecure except for maybe the few that he picks on. Funny enough, those people tend to be the closest people he has in his life.
Unable to form very deep connections, he's a bit of a loner though he'll try to make an effort to be in the place where something is happening. Booker runs with a crowd of popular kids all the way to the kids who get into trouble. He'd be pretty smart if he applied himself to school and his classes. But since classes and school won't make him feel good or allow him to chase that emotional high, he puts them on the back burner. And that's sort of how things fall in line with this guy. Bo is chasing something better. Chasing popularity. Chasing. Chasing. Chasing. When things get to loud, he has to get away with his music. He wonders what it would be like to feel like a fifteen year old kid, but forced to make money in some sketchy ways, Booker hasn't really been allowed that opportunity. Quite a few things haven't allowed him to be a kid. He carries that with him, but still keeps his head up with an abrasive, obnoxious, attitude about life. People don't typically like him. He knows that. But he'd rather shout and laugh than admit it to himself or change.
He's really not all bad, though. When Booker is feeling good, he can be a pretty chill guy and that's what he's like most the time. He likes to joke and tease people. He especially likes to tease the people he likes, and targets them with his attention more than other people. But since the people he typically likes are boys and being a gay kid would be one of those things making him feel like shit, he usually turns that light teasing into something more like bullying. Otherwise, Bo has moments where he just wants to sit and talk for hours with somebody who'll give him the time of day. Or he'll want to listen to somebody talk to him without giving him that look.
VICES will fight anybody instead of talk about the issue, refuses to talk to people about his problems and would rather fight.... again, is riddled with insecurities, gets easily angered by ridicule, puts himself above other people constantly, has a slight problem with drugs and alcohol, is smart but has bad grades, unmotivated to go anywhere in life, has a big 'what's the point' attitude towards life
VIRTUES can speak his mind if he wants to, he has no problem flirting with girls, obsessed with music and plays the bass and drums, is physically active and has thought about playing football because he likes the sport but he smokes and what if he doesn't make the cut???, is protective towards people he cares about like his little sister and a few friends, has a bunch of random facts that he's stored up to have conversations about, is compassionate in some cases but has a hard time showing it
LIKES partying, alcohol, drugs, dog enthusiast, music, ryan caraveo and music in that genre, fighting, football, running, space facts, popularity, video games like COD, the color red, he wishes he could find some people to play music with
DISLIKES authority, teachers, classes, people who think they know it all and shove it in his face, disclosure, his dad, his dumb fuckin' neighbor that's gonna blow up their block cookin' that shit in his back shed, valentines day
FEARS losing his home and little sister to the foster system, getting arrested, overdosing, and the future, opening up to people only to have them leave
FAVORITES his little sister and older brother, again, ryan carveo, just look at likes lol
HOBBIES again, this aligns with his likes. but he writes music and one of his favorite hobbies is picking on people that should be picked on for their own good. it's really just darwinsim, he's doing them a favor. stargazin'. robbing liqueur stores with the homies.
HABITS humming to himself before remembering that people might be listening, spinning a pen through his fingers, staring off into space, filling in silences with a wide array of growls, smoking is a habit.
-
H I S T O R Y
-
Booker is a middle child to his two siblings, Daniel and Naomi. Daniel is five years older than him while his sister is seven years younger - the product of bad judgment to not wear a condom by his parents. Compared to most families in his neighborhood, Booker supposes that he has it alright. Okay. Sort of. He's got both his parents if that counts for something. But his mom was diagnosed with cancer when he was seven so their big house became a smaller shitty two bedroom rental in the shittiest part of town. That's where he's been for a long time, now - six years, in fact. While their money went to battling his mother's cancer, her health and depression from the years of treatment has left her unemployed. His father, hardworking as he is, struggles to put food on the table. Booker sometimes feels like his dad feels guilty that he never went to college so he could get a better job. Or better... so that he could even stand a chance to hold down a job. His father, Russel Frye, can be particularly short tempered after working all day and barely having the money to pay the bills either way. Because of that, he took to drinking and we all know how that story ends. Booker learned to deal with his dad's anger and loose fists a long time ago.
His brother was his closest friend while going through all of this. Daniel had his head on straight, it was hard not to be proud of the guy who went on to get a full ride to UCLA. But when Daniel left, Booker was left to be the big brother. To take the full force of his dad's ever increasing anger and impatience with his useless kid and his depressed wife. After a while, Booker's dad began to put in minimal effort and the breaks between jobs got longer. At the same time, Booker had started getting more and more into this shit with the kids on his block. Robbing gas stations and smoking at the skate park. Stealing his dad's alcohol to impress his older friends. When Booker was in fourth grade, he got held back from slipping grades. He began to lose the motivation to try since nothing he ever did seem to much up to the standards his older brother had already set. And of course, it was also around this time that he started looking at guys and internally freaking out because not this too.
Eventually, the only thing Booker really learned to care about was his little sister. If social workers took her away he'd be ruined. Booker sells drugs for an extra buck and any money he does get from the gang that he runs with from time to time goes into helping his dad pay rent. He used to be a skinny kid with a buzz cut when he was younger, but his increasing desire to be liked and admired encouraged Bo to start bulking up and growing his hair out. He found exercising released all the anger from his situation at home, especially when the kids at his dumb fuckin' school just got on his nerves, sayin' shit they didn't know anything about. He also found release in music, playing his bass guitar for Naomi on the days his dad was working and wouldn't shout to shut that noise up. Escapism became something of a close friend to him as did becoming the class asshole and flunk out.
-
S A M P L E
-
Booker brought the cigarette up to his lips, his hand on the side of the twerp's face. This twerp in question had been going around spreading rumors that he'd caused a fire in their chemistry class. I mean, he had! But that was none of his fuckin' business, you know? Who said that he was allowed to go running his mouth about what Booker Frye did or didn't do in chemistry. He took a drag of the cigarette and held it in his chest for a long time before blowing it out into the boy's face. Naturally, Booker found himself hating that he noticed the cheekbones and adam's apple bobbing in the nerd's throat. It was easier to ignore when the guy - his name was Adam, by the way - spoke.
"Smoking is gonna give you cancer. You can beat me up all you want, but look how strong you'll be-"
Booker slammed his fist hard on the wall that he was pushing the nerd into, roughly. "Don't fuckin' give me a lecture on cancer, dick cheese. Here, you sound so cocky. Open your mouth."
The nerd cowered and shook his head in protest because what the hell could Booker Frye want him to open his mouth for. Suddenly really annoyed with the lack of compliance, Bo's gaze intensified and he grabbed Adam's jaw, squeezing it hard, "I said open up." Adam finally opened his mouth and as soon as he did, Bo took the cigarette in his hand a popped it in. Adam just looked confused, but it wasn't about making sense. It was about making sure that people didn't talk shit about him behind his back. He didn't have to make sense for that. "Now suck in. Come on, talking shit on smoking. You ain't even tried it."
He looked increasingly scared. Booker pushed harder, getting more and more into Adam's space, not caring about invading personal space. There was nothing gay about him shoving a cigarette into another boy's mouth and telling him to suck it. But after too long of him watching this kid whimper, he reeled back and just punched him in the face. The cigarette flew from his mouth and he flashed the nerd the middle finger, "Don't ever let me catching you talkin' shit again."
When Booker stalked away, he was still angry, his brows furrowed and his hands shoved in his pockets as he ignored classmates asking if his was okay. Not everybody hated him. Just... the people that knew how shitty he could be to guys like Adam. Which, granted, was most of the school, but still. He made his way out to the field, already having to find somewhere to light another cigarette. His eyes shut tight. He counted under his breath. The anger still wasn't going away. Two. Three. Four drags in and his heart rate was only starting to go down. This couldn't be normal, right? He couldn't be normal. Popping earphones into his ears, Bo managed to drown out the ringing in his ears as he watched the football players warm up for practice.
"Back to the corner of the worldWhere the sun don't shineThis place is too familiarNo matter how far I go, I always fall"
NAME Booker Frye
NICKNAME Bo
GENDER Male
ROMANTIC ORIENTATION Homoromantic (closeted)
SEXUAL ORIENTATION Homosexual (closeted)
FACECLAIM Neels Visser (younger)
AGE, HEIGHT, AND WEIGHT 16 y/o . 5’11” (he's still growing). 142 lbs. (he's been held back)
BUILD Bo is a bit of a string bean, being thin and and tall. Though, since he goes running in the morning and spends time away from home at the gym, he's got a fair bit of muscle.
EYES Bright blue
PIERCINGS AND TATTOOS Booker has left ear pierced, no tattoos but he wants some[/FONT]
HAIR Blond and shaggy, it's rarely done in any particular style
FASHION He wears secondhand clothes from thrift shops or second-hand clothes from his older brother. Ripped/worn jeans and T-shirts. He also wears a variety of hoodies around and sticks to dark colors.
Personality
Booker is a big mouth and a bigger personality. Whenever he's in the room, he wants all eyes to be on him and has some kind of a story to tell. His friends all know that most of his stories are bullshit, but the way he'd tell them, you'd think he were leading a march against authority and bringing down the entire system. Booker hates to be talked down by authority or by people in his class. He's quick to result to using his fists to resolve conflicts, and sometimes he doesn't even need to be provoked to take some kind of simmering anger out on people. Usually, he sticks to a target few individuals, but anybody is equal in his eyes for a fight. Mostly Booker doesn't look angry since he's always sporting some dumb cocky smile. He loves to party around, drink, and smoke because that's just the sort of stuff he's been surrounded with. Nobody would know that Booker is insecure except for maybe the few that he picks on. Funny enough, those people tend to be the closest people he has in his life.
Unable to form very deep connections, he's a bit of a loner though he'll try to make an effort to be in the place where something is happening. Booker runs with a crowd of popular kids all the way to the kids who get into trouble. He'd be pretty smart if he applied himself to school and his classes. But since classes and school won't make him feel good or allow him to chase that emotional high, he puts them on the back burner. And that's sort of how things fall in line with this guy. Bo is chasing something better. Chasing popularity. Chasing. Chasing. Chasing. When things get to loud, he has to get away with his music. He wonders what it would be like to feel like a fifteen year old kid, but forced to make money in some sketchy ways, Booker hasn't really been allowed that opportunity. Quite a few things haven't allowed him to be a kid. He carries that with him, but still keeps his head up with an abrasive, obnoxious, attitude about life. People don't typically like him. He knows that. But he'd rather shout and laugh than admit it to himself or change.
He's really not all bad, though. When Booker is feeling good, he can be a pretty chill guy and that's what he's like most the time. He likes to joke and tease people. He especially likes to tease the people he likes, and targets them with his attention more than other people. But since the people he typically likes are boys and being a gay kid would be one of those things making him feel like shit, he usually turns that light teasing into something more like bullying. Otherwise, Bo has moments where he just wants to sit and talk for hours with somebody who'll give him the time of day. Or he'll want to listen to somebody talk to him without giving him that look.
VICES will fight anybody instead of talk about the issue, refuses to talk to people about his problems and would rather fight.... again, is riddled with insecurities, gets easily angered by ridicule, puts himself above other people constantly, has a slight problem with drugs and alcohol, is smart but has bad grades, unmotivated to go anywhere in life, has a big 'what's the point' attitude towards life
VIRTUES can speak his mind if he wants to, he has no problem flirting with girls, obsessed with music and plays the bass and drums, is physically active and has thought about playing football because he likes the sport but he smokes and what if he doesn't make the cut???, is protective towards people he cares about like his little sister and a few friends, has a bunch of random facts that he's stored up to have conversations about, is compassionate in some cases but has a hard time showing it
LIKES partying, alcohol, drugs, dog enthusiast, music, ryan caraveo and music in that genre, fighting, football, running, space facts, popularity, video games like COD, the color red, he wishes he could find some people to play music with
DISLIKES authority, teachers, classes, people who think they know it all and shove it in his face, disclosure, his dad, his dumb fuckin' neighbor that's gonna blow up their block cookin' that shit in his back shed, valentines day
FEARS losing his home and little sister to the foster system, getting arrested, overdosing, and the future, opening up to people only to have them leave
FAVORITES his little sister and older brother, again, ryan carveo, just look at likes lol
HOBBIES again, this aligns with his likes. but he writes music and one of his favorite hobbies is picking on people that should be picked on for their own good. it's really just darwinsim, he's doing them a favor. stargazin'. robbing liqueur stores with the homies.
HABITS humming to himself before remembering that people might be listening, spinning a pen through his fingers, staring off into space, filling in silences with a wide array of growls, smoking is a habit.
History
Booker is a middle child to his two siblings, Daniel and Naomi. Daniel is five years older than him while his sister is seven years younger - the product of bad judgment to not wear a condom by his parents. Compared to most families in his neighborhood, Booker supposes that he has it alright. Okay. Sort of. He's got both his parents if that counts for something. But his mom was diagnosed with cancer when he was seven so their big house became a smaller shitty two bedroom rental in the shittiest part of town. That's where he's been for a long time, now - six years, in fact. While their money went to battling his mother's cancer, her health and depression from the years of treatment has left her unemployed. His father, hardworking as he is, struggles to put food on the table. Booker sometimes feels like his dad feels guilty that he never went to college so he could get a better job. Or better... so that he could even stand a chance to hold down a job. His father, Russel Frye, can be particularly short tempered after working all day and barely having the money to pay the bills either way. Because of that, he took to drinking and we all know how that story ends. Booker learned to deal with his dad's anger and loose fists a long time ago.
His brother was his closest friend while going through all of this. Daniel had his head on straight, it was hard not to be proud of the guy who went on to get a full ride to UCLA. But when Daniel left, Booker was left to be the big brother. To take the full force of his dad's ever increasing anger and impatience with his useless kid and his depressed wife. After a while, Booker's dad began to put in minimal effort and the breaks between jobs got longer. At the same time, Booker had started getting more and more into this shit with the kids on his block. Robbing gas stations and smoking at the skate park. Stealing his dad's alcohol to impress his older friends. When Booker was in fourth grade, he got held back from slipping grades. He began to lose the motivation to try since nothing he ever did seem to much up to the standards his older brother had already set. And of course, it was also around this time that he started looking at guys and internally freaking out because not this too.
Eventually, the only thing Booker really learned to care about was his little sister. If social workers took her away he'd be ruined. Booker sells drugs for an extra buck and any money he does get from the gang that he runs with from time to time goes into helping his dad pay rent. He used to be a skinny kid with a buzz cut when he was younger, but his increasing desire to be liked and admired encouraged Bo to start bulking up and growing his hair out. He found exercising released all the anger from his situation at home, especially when the kids at his dumb fuckin' school just got on his nerves, sayin' shit they didn't know anything about. He also found release in music, playing his bass guitar for Naomi on the days his dad was working and wouldn't shout to shut that noise up. Escapism became something of a close friend to him as did becoming the class asshole and flunk out.
Sample
Booker brought the cigarette up to his lips, his hand on the side of the twerp's face. This twerp in question had been going around spreading rumors that he'd caused a fire in their chemistry class. I mean, he had! But that was none of his fuckin' business, you know? Who said that he was allowed to go running his mouth about what Booker Frye did or didn't do in chemistry. He took a drag of the cigarette and held it in his chest for a long time before blowing it out into the boy's face. Naturally, Booker found himself hating that he noticed the cheekbones and adam's apple bobbing in the nerd's throat. It was easier to ignore when the guy - his name was Adam, by the way - spoke.
"Smoking is gonna give you cancer. You can beat me up all you want, but look how strong you'll be-"
Booker slammed his fist hard on the wall that he was pushing the nerd into, roughly. "Don't fuckin' give me a lecture on cancer, dick cheese. Here, you sound so cocky. Open your mouth."
The nerd cowered and shook his head in protest because what the hell could Booker Frye want him to open his mouth for. Suddenly really annoyed with the lack of compliance, Bo's gaze intensified and he grabbed Adam's jaw, squeezing it hard, "I said open up." Adam finally opened his mouth and as soon as he did, Bo took the cigarette in his hand a popped it in. Adam just looked confused, but it wasn't about making sense. It was about making sure that people didn't talk shit about him behind his back. He didn't have to make sense for that. "Now suck in. Come on, talking shit on smoking. You ain't even tried it."
He looked increasingly scared. Booker pushed harder, getting more and more into Adam's space, not caring about invading personal space. There was nothing gay about him shoving a cigarette into another boy's mouth and telling him to suck it. But after too long of him watching this kid whimper, he reeled back and just punched him in the face. The cigarette flew from his mouth and he flashed the nerd the middle finger, "Don't ever let me catching you talkin' shit again."
When Booker stalked away, he was still angry, his brows furrowed and his hands shoved in his pockets as he ignored classmates asking if his was okay. Not everybody hated him. Just... the people that knew how shitty he could be to guys like Adam. Which, granted, was most of the school, but still. He made his way out to the field, already having to find somewhere to light another cigarette. His eyes shut tight. He counted under his breath. The anger still wasn't going away. Two. Three. Four drags in and his heart rate was only starting to go down. This couldn't be normal, right? He couldn't be normal. Popping earphones into his ears, Bo managed to drown out the ringing in his ears as he watched the football players warm up for practice.
NICKNAME Bo
GENDER Male
ROMANTIC ORIENTATION Homoromantic (closeted)
SEXUAL ORIENTATION Homosexual (closeted)
FACECLAIM Neels Visser (younger)
AGE, HEIGHT, AND WEIGHT 16 y/o . 5’11” (he's still growing). 142 lbs. (he's been held back)
BUILD Bo is a bit of a string bean, being thin and and tall. Though, since he goes running in the morning and spends time away from home at the gym, he's got a fair bit of muscle.
EYES Bright blue
PIERCINGS AND TATTOOS Booker has left ear pierced, no tattoos but he wants some[/FONT]
HAIR Blond and shaggy, it's rarely done in any particular style
FASHION He wears secondhand clothes from thrift shops or second-hand clothes from his older brother. Ripped/worn jeans and T-shirts. He also wears a variety of hoodies around and sticks to dark colors.
Personality
Booker is a big mouth and a bigger personality. Whenever he's in the room, he wants all eyes to be on him and has some kind of a story to tell. His friends all know that most of his stories are bullshit, but the way he'd tell them, you'd think he were leading a march against authority and bringing down the entire system. Booker hates to be talked down by authority or by people in his class. He's quick to result to using his fists to resolve conflicts, and sometimes he doesn't even need to be provoked to take some kind of simmering anger out on people. Usually, he sticks to a target few individuals, but anybody is equal in his eyes for a fight. Mostly Booker doesn't look angry since he's always sporting some dumb cocky smile. He loves to party around, drink, and smoke because that's just the sort of stuff he's been surrounded with. Nobody would know that Booker is insecure except for maybe the few that he picks on. Funny enough, those people tend to be the closest people he has in his life.
Unable to form very deep connections, he's a bit of a loner though he'll try to make an effort to be in the place where something is happening. Booker runs with a crowd of popular kids all the way to the kids who get into trouble. He'd be pretty smart if he applied himself to school and his classes. But since classes and school won't make him feel good or allow him to chase that emotional high, he puts them on the back burner. And that's sort of how things fall in line with this guy. Bo is chasing something better. Chasing popularity. Chasing. Chasing. Chasing. When things get to loud, he has to get away with his music. He wonders what it would be like to feel like a fifteen year old kid, but forced to make money in some sketchy ways, Booker hasn't really been allowed that opportunity. Quite a few things haven't allowed him to be a kid. He carries that with him, but still keeps his head up with an abrasive, obnoxious, attitude about life. People don't typically like him. He knows that. But he'd rather shout and laugh than admit it to himself or change.
He's really not all bad, though. When Booker is feeling good, he can be a pretty chill guy and that's what he's like most the time. He likes to joke and tease people. He especially likes to tease the people he likes, and targets them with his attention more than other people. But since the people he typically likes are boys and being a gay kid would be one of those things making him feel like shit, he usually turns that light teasing into something more like bullying. Otherwise, Bo has moments where he just wants to sit and talk for hours with somebody who'll give him the time of day. Or he'll want to listen to somebody talk to him without giving him that look.
VICES will fight anybody instead of talk about the issue, refuses to talk to people about his problems and would rather fight.... again, is riddled with insecurities, gets easily angered by ridicule, puts himself above other people constantly, has a slight problem with drugs and alcohol, is smart but has bad grades, unmotivated to go anywhere in life, has a big 'what's the point' attitude towards life
VIRTUES can speak his mind if he wants to, he has no problem flirting with girls, obsessed with music and plays the bass and drums, is physically active and has thought about playing football because he likes the sport but he smokes and what if he doesn't make the cut???, is protective towards people he cares about like his little sister and a few friends, has a bunch of random facts that he's stored up to have conversations about, is compassionate in some cases but has a hard time showing it
LIKES partying, alcohol, drugs, dog enthusiast, music, ryan caraveo and music in that genre, fighting, football, running, space facts, popularity, video games like COD, the color red, he wishes he could find some people to play music with
DISLIKES authority, teachers, classes, people who think they know it all and shove it in his face, disclosure, his dad, his dumb fuckin' neighbor that's gonna blow up their block cookin' that shit in his back shed, valentines day
FEARS losing his home and little sister to the foster system, getting arrested, overdosing, and the future, opening up to people only to have them leave
FAVORITES his little sister and older brother, again, ryan carveo, just look at likes lol
HOBBIES again, this aligns with his likes. but he writes music and one of his favorite hobbies is picking on people that should be picked on for their own good. it's really just darwinsim, he's doing them a favor. stargazin'. robbing liqueur stores with the homies.
HABITS humming to himself before remembering that people might be listening, spinning a pen through his fingers, staring off into space, filling in silences with a wide array of growls, smoking is a habit.
History
Booker is a middle child to his two siblings, Daniel and Naomi. Daniel is five years older than him while his sister is seven years younger - the product of bad judgment to not wear a condom by his parents. Compared to most families in his neighborhood, Booker supposes that he has it alright. Okay. Sort of. He's got both his parents if that counts for something. But his mom was diagnosed with cancer when he was seven so their big house became a smaller shitty two bedroom rental in the shittiest part of town. That's where he's been for a long time, now - six years, in fact. While their money went to battling his mother's cancer, her health and depression from the years of treatment has left her unemployed. His father, hardworking as he is, struggles to put food on the table. Booker sometimes feels like his dad feels guilty that he never went to college so he could get a better job. Or better... so that he could even stand a chance to hold down a job. His father, Russel Frye, can be particularly short tempered after working all day and barely having the money to pay the bills either way. Because of that, he took to drinking and we all know how that story ends. Booker learned to deal with his dad's anger and loose fists a long time ago.
His brother was his closest friend while going through all of this. Daniel had his head on straight, it was hard not to be proud of the guy who went on to get a full ride to UCLA. But when Daniel left, Booker was left to be the big brother. To take the full force of his dad's ever increasing anger and impatience with his useless kid and his depressed wife. After a while, Booker's dad began to put in minimal effort and the breaks between jobs got longer. At the same time, Booker had started getting more and more into this shit with the kids on his block. Robbing gas stations and smoking at the skate park. Stealing his dad's alcohol to impress his older friends. When Booker was in fourth grade, he got held back from slipping grades. He began to lose the motivation to try since nothing he ever did seem to much up to the standards his older brother had already set. And of course, it was also around this time that he started looking at guys and internally freaking out because not this too.
Eventually, the only thing Booker really learned to care about was his little sister. If social workers took her away he'd be ruined. Booker sells drugs for an extra buck and any money he does get from the gang that he runs with from time to time goes into helping his dad pay rent. He used to be a skinny kid with a buzz cut when he was younger, but his increasing desire to be liked and admired encouraged Bo to start bulking up and growing his hair out. He found exercising released all the anger from his situation at home, especially when the kids at his dumb fuckin' school just got on his nerves, sayin' shit they didn't know anything about. He also found release in music, playing his bass guitar for Naomi on the days his dad was working and wouldn't shout to shut that noise up. Escapism became something of a close friend to him as did becoming the class asshole and flunk out.
Sample
Booker brought the cigarette up to his lips, his hand on the side of the twerp's face. This twerp in question had been going around spreading rumors that he'd caused a fire in their chemistry class. I mean, he had! But that was none of his fuckin' business, you know? Who said that he was allowed to go running his mouth about what Booker Frye did or didn't do in chemistry. He took a drag of the cigarette and held it in his chest for a long time before blowing it out into the boy's face. Naturally, Booker found himself hating that he noticed the cheekbones and adam's apple bobbing in the nerd's throat. It was easier to ignore when the guy - his name was Adam, by the way - spoke.
"Smoking is gonna give you cancer. You can beat me up all you want, but look how strong you'll be-"
Booker slammed his fist hard on the wall that he was pushing the nerd into, roughly. "Don't fuckin' give me a lecture on cancer, dick cheese. Here, you sound so cocky. Open your mouth."
The nerd cowered and shook his head in protest because what the hell could Booker Frye want him to open his mouth for. Suddenly really annoyed with the lack of compliance, Bo's gaze intensified and he grabbed Adam's jaw, squeezing it hard, "I said open up." Adam finally opened his mouth and as soon as he did, Bo took the cigarette in his hand a popped it in. Adam just looked confused, but it wasn't about making sense. It was about making sure that people didn't talk shit about him behind his back. He didn't have to make sense for that. "Now suck in. Come on, talking shit on smoking. You ain't even tried it."
He looked increasingly scared. Booker pushed harder, getting more and more into Adam's space, not caring about invading personal space. There was nothing gay about him shoving a cigarette into another boy's mouth and telling him to suck it. But after too long of him watching this kid whimper, he reeled back and just punched him in the face. The cigarette flew from his mouth and he flashed the nerd the middle finger, "Don't ever let me catching you talkin' shit again."
When Booker stalked away, he was still angry, his brows furrowed and his hands shoved in his pockets as he ignored classmates asking if his was okay. Not everybody hated him. Just... the people that knew how shitty he could be to guys like Adam. Which, granted, was most of the school, but still. He made his way out to the field, already having to find somewhere to light another cigarette. His eyes shut tight. He counted under his breath. The anger still wasn't going away. Two. Three. Four drags in and his heart rate was only starting to go down. This couldn't be normal, right? He couldn't be normal. Popping earphones into his ears, Bo managed to drown out the ringing in his ears as he watched the football players warm up for practice.
"Back to the corner of the world
Where the sun don't shine
This place is too familiar
No matter how far I go, I always fall"
