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Fantasy He is Risen (CS)

OOC
Here
KingofAesir

KingofAesir

Ghostly Presence
Character Sheets
Name, age (16-18), ect basics
Appearance, please use realistic FCs
Personality, at least a paragraph or so (format however you want, individual traits or otherwise)
Bio, doesn't have to be crazy long just give me something to work with!

Due Date: October 29th 11pm CST ​
 
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ellie
preston
  • confess
    your sins
    to each other and
    pray for each other
    so that you may be healed.
code by valen t.
 
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davin.







  • Davin Castillo



    18



    psychic



    town outcast



    january 12th



    male



    harmon, la



    homosexual




    height
    weight

    height answer
    weight answer


    blood type
    star sign

    blood type answer
    star sign answer


    hair

    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Mauris pharetra sem in dolor eleifend posuere. Curabitur nec felis sed mauris viverra ultrices. Nulla eget felis in enim pretium viverra. Nulla tellus dolor, ornare nec congue et, sodales eu nibh. Cras sit amet ultricies sapien, sed maximus elit. Sed quis commodo velit. Proin eu tincidunt nisl. Cras et mauris cursus, vestibulum risus a, semper diam. Etiam metus leo, ullamcorper in interdum quis, bibendum vel augue. Morbi eleifend justo metus, nec vulputate eros ultrices sollicitudin.

    eyes

    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Mauris pharetra sem in dolor eleifend posuere. Curabitur nec felis sed mauris viverra ultrices. Nulla eget felis in enim pretium viverra. Nulla tellus dolor, ornare nec congue et, sodales eu nibh. Cras sit amet ultricies sapien, sed maximus elit. Sed quis commodo velit. Proin eu tincidunt nisl. Cras et mauris cursus, vestibulum risus a, semper diam. Etiam metus leo, ullamcorper in interdum quis, bibendum vel augue. Morbi eleifend justo metus, nec vulputate eros ultrices sollicitudin.

    body type

    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Mauris pharetra sem in dolor eleifend posuere. Curabitur nec felis sed mauris viverra ultrices. Nulla eget felis in enim pretium viverra. Nulla tellus dolor, ornare nec congue et, sodales eu nibh. Cras sit amet ultricies sapien, sed maximus elit. Sed quis commodo velit. Proin eu tincidunt nisl. Cras et mauris cursus, vestibulum risus a, semper diam. Etiam metus leo, ullamcorper in interdum quis, bibendum vel augue. Morbi eleifend justo metus, nec vulputate eros ultrices sollicitudin.

    body mods

    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Mauris pharetra sem in dolor eleifend posuere. Curabitur nec felis sed mauris viverra ultrices. Nulla eget felis in enim pretium viverra. Nulla tellus dolor, ornare nec congue et, sodales eu nibh. Cras sit amet ultricies sapien, sed maximus elit. Sed quis commodo velit. Proin eu tincidunt nisl. Cras et mauris cursus, vestibulum risus a, semper diam. Etiam metus leo, ullamcorper in interdum quis, bibendum vel augue. Morbi eleifend justo metus, nec vulputate eros ultrices sollicitudin.

    body style

    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Mauris pharetra sem in dolor eleifend posuere. Curabitur nec felis sed mauris viverra ultrices. Nulla eget felis in enim pretium viverra. Nulla tellus dolor, ornare nec congue et, sodales eu nibh. Cras sit amet ultricies sapien, sed maximus elit. Sed quis commodo velit. Proin eu tincidunt nisl. Cras et mauris cursus, vestibulum risus a, semper diam. Etiam metus leo, ullamcorper in interdum quis, bibendum vel augue. Morbi eleifend justo metus, nec vulputate eros ultrices sollicitudin.

    face claim

    Answer here




/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */
© weldherwings.
 
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ladonna dobson
—requisite
name: ladonna elaine dobson
nickname(s): dottie | she isn’t too fond of her full name. when she hears it, she feels as if she’s done something wrong. dottie is a cute little name that she thought of all on her own.

age: 18 years old
d.o.b: july 21st
gender: cis-female
sexuality: pansexual
ethnicity/race: black
grade: 12th


—visage
hair: she rocks her natural hair proudly, despite how people tell her that she needs to “fix” her head. dottie wears her 4c type afro with pride. it doesn’t matter if people believe that it’s gone out of style. if she’s not wearing it out, she styles it in two afro-puffs. occasionally she does get a silk press to change things up.

eyes: big and round, the type of eyes that are just made for giving that familiar kicked puppy look. dottie’s eyes are black in color. they’re framed by long, mascara covered lashes. her eyelids are often decorated with whatever color she’s wearing for the day.

skin: as much as she wishes it so, her skin is not as clear as she’d like. dottie has the typical acne, it comes in the form of closed comedones and hyperpigmentation in areas.

height: 5’6” | 153 cm
weight: 160bs | 58 kg

builds: in medical terms, dottie has a mesomorph, slightly pear-like type build. most of her activity comes from snooping around with the club members, so she has little muscle mass. she does have some stubborn “baby” fat that she hasn’t shed, especially in her cheeks.

misc: dottie has a noticeable gap between her two front teeth. despite jokes at her expense she doesn’t mind her gap, she actually thinks that it’s cute. a recent feature of hers is a belly button piercing that she got without her mama’s permission. dottie hasn’t broken the news to her yet, but doesn’t she doesn’t think that she wants to.

wardrobe: she has never been all too interested in trends or fashion. instead, dottie wears what she wants without a care about what others may think. so she’ll wear clothes handed down by family members without a problem. ottie’s always experimenting with her looks so she doesn’t have a set style just yet.

—persona
personality: little dottie dobson has a certain reputation around town. when the old folks see her they shake their heads in disapproval. they say that she doesn’t have the sense that god born her with. they say she’s the type that makes people like them look bad. this reputation has been with her for as long as she can remember. dottie has gotten used to their opinions and rumors that have attached themselves to her name.

you’ll likely hear her before you see her. more often than not it seems like she doesn’t have a quiet setting. dottie’s voice was made for speaking out, for telling others how she feels without a care. her mama told her that god gave her a voice for a reason and that she shouldn’t let anyone take it from her. it’s a saying that dottie took to heart. people say that she has a smart mouth, that she doesn’t know when to hush. but in her opinion, she’s just honest. dottie is blunt to the point of being hurtful. she sugarcoats nothing, feelings be damned. with her, it’s best to tell it how it is, to get straight to the points. with her little habit of spewing profanities, the way she speaks can come across as offensive.

dottie is a confident young woman, maybe even a little full of herself at times. she’ll spend too much time in the mirror if possible. her appearance is something that’s important to her, but the only gaze that matters is her own. dottie looks good for herself, she feels no need to impress others. people will always have something negative to say, they’ll always find a flaw even if you’re trying to find it. why would she want that unnecessary stress? dottie doesn’t need anyone to tell her that she’s amazing, flattery does nothing for her because she’s fully aware that she’s something special. people can taunt her for her gap, her clothes, but she lets their words roll off her back.

when there’s something that dottie doesn’t want to do, she won’t do it. you’ll have more success with arguing with a brick wall. dottie is as stubborn as a mule, one that doesn’t like being told what to do. she says that she doesn’t have trouble with authority but rather, authority has trouble with her. and it’s true in a sense. with how she’s perceived dottie is almost always seen as having an “attitude” or that she behaves to “grown”. she’s met with a lack of empathy and she notices, expects it even. dottie will call it out and there aren’t too many who like that.

it’s true that dottie has a habit of getting into trouble, but it’s usually just a little harmless fun. so what if her fingers have been sticky a few times? who’ll miss a candy bar or two? and what’s life without the occasional fight? she wouldn’t go as far as to say that she’s a full-blown daredevil, but she can be reckless. dottie has trouble with thinking things through. she’s never been the most patient person. to make up for it, she’s a cunning person with the ability to think on her feet.

dottie is aware of her many faults and has never claimed to be perfect. but she doesn’t think that she’s all that bad, despite what society tells her. deep down though, she’s hurt by her treatment. she hides it well, pushes it down so that it can’t bother her.


likes: ebony magazine, long acrylics, juicy fruit, r&b, block & house parties, hand-me-downs, roller-skating, cruising
dislikes: being bossed around, people touching her hair, creeps, school, beating around the bush, cologne/perfume over b.o., sci-fi

fears: being stuck in her small town, lizards, rodents
ailments: none
skills: quick-thinker, stealing/pick-pocketing, street smarts, good memory, swift, fist-fighting

—history
bio: ladonna “dottie” dobson was born and raised within hollen, louisiana. though her family history starts out in a whole different town. her mother, charity dabson, was the daughter of two wealthy parents. when her parents found out that she had gotten pregnant, by a hoodlum of all people, they had urged her to get rid of the child. charity, young and in love, refused. she was sure that, with her then boyfriend raymond, they would be able to provide for their child.

the argument that followed was explosive, tears flowed as charity packed up her things and left for the next town over. her parents provided her with enough money to find somewhere to stay, but that was as generous as they would get. charity and raymond stayed together for quite a while, but soon the thrill of dating someone who was previously off limits began to wear off. their relationship became strained as raymond couldn’t leave the streets. the two developed an one again off again relationship.

the birth of her daughter introduced charity to a new type of love. as her baby girl came into the world wailing, quieting down when she was placed upon her mother’s chest, charity knew that she would do anything for her. adapting to her new life was difficult, but she was nothing, if not a resilient woman. she would do what she had to do for her child.

raymond was a mediocre father at best. he would visit his daughter a few times, with his disappearances between each visit becoming longer. charity was too proud to beg, it was his loss after all. he would miss the amazement moments as ladonna grew up, from her first steps to her first words. charity was ready to be her child’s mother and father. she wouldn’t need someone so didn’t seem to want her in her life.

ladonna was an active child and a clingy one at that. she found it hard to separate from her mother and when left with sitters, she’d cry her little heart out. at the time she didn’t understand that mama had to leave for so long to provide for her, she worked so much so that she would never go without. but when charity did have time, they would spend it together.

by her teenage years ladonna was well aware of why her mother worked so much, and she felt terrible. so it was then that she began doing hair to help out with things, so that her mama didn’t have to stress so much. but like any other teenager ladonna would get into trouble. with a mother who was out more often times than not, it was easy for her to sneak out to go cruising or partying. but when she got into trouble, the look on her mother’s face made her feel all the worse
 
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WIP​












JOURNALIST




fc: Gavin Leatherwood



Frederick Carden




♡coded by uxie♡


Name: Frederick George Carden
Nicknames: Prefers Fred
Age: 18
Gender: Male, He/Him
Sexuality: Bisexual (never disclosed to anyone)
Birth Date: August 10th
Grade: Senior [12th]

Appearance: Frederick’s entire appearance could be summed up with “shaky,” shaky gingerly arms, extending from a body he’s barely growing into and coated with awkward smiles to misshapen for his face. It’s crooked, sloping down his jaw at an angle while exposing the bottom of his lip one way. Nerdling has followed him around since he was ten, equating with ruffled brown hair and wide glasses, bottle tops, never the sleek ones you see in the magazines. A word shouldn’t define you so strongly, and yet Fred knows his visage compliments the meaning all too profoundly with his spindly height and bony hips. Muscle is a popular myth on his limbs, seeking nothing on his gaunt frame, and possessing a pallor made to match. Snowflakes might have more colour than him, but the thick pair of bushy eyebrows hones in the ivory night. Perhaps it’s the most distinctive about him, fuzzy caterpillars coming together like two neighbours, and finding the centre at the top of his nose. His eyes are pressed into his skull, sullen from all the newspapers he pours over from the night and filling his brain with any wild gossip circling the town. A soft colour of chocolate dominates, crowning his countenance with a little boyish charm and tenderness which ages him down.


Personality: Fred, well, Fred is himself and doesn’t apologise for his rampant interests in the news, literature or sci-fi media, which he consumes like a drug. He’s addicted to reading books and changing his repertoire to sound more intelligent than he appears to be. His interests are coined as “childish,” and that one day he’ll grow “out of it,” get a proper job and settle down as a good man should do. Fred has been hit with “a man should be this,” and a “man should be that,” since he was a toddler. Something about him inclines people to comment that one day he’ll finally wake up from this nonsense. He knows his passions can be thought of as egregious, though people believe he’s on the “righteous path,” and he just needs a little tilting in the right direction. Gag him if you please. Fred is attracted to reality, the unburdened truth, and his fascination with that comes with a want to be grounded in something real. He believes or retains the idea that his family isn’t real with him — it’ll unravel when he finally leaves. This spider web of glittering smiles and carefully concealed disappointed nods. Fred knows he isn’t the son that they wanted but got stuck with him and that shows up in back-handed compliments.


Bio: It’s funny what defines each person, what elements of principles and examples of values. The Cardens were no different really, amplified in town loyalty and security. Wyatt Carden, a pot-belly man whose bile lashed harder than his breath and Charlene Carden, brittle and pretty — a wilting daisy under the wrath of his father. Frederick was the youngest sibling to be born into a house of boys, the average family, rounding up to about five. Healthy, tantamount to the American Dream, with strong roots and a respectable foundation. Never reaching the influential circles, but never reaching the fringes, either. Wyatt, a police officer, and his mother, the town gossip, were a mighty pair in producing offspring whose traits matched the worst shades of his father’s stained uniform. Although Frederick broke the chain, his sense of gentleness came from his mother’s spirit and none of his father's murky, inky personality dredged up in his youngest boy. Fred saw corruption from a young age, bending the law, bending the knee to those that owed you and smacking down the competition. His brothers followed suit with that sort of brutalism, torturing the outcasts of the town and making his family distinct in a way that was “normal,” and such a hand reached his own cheek when Fred didn’t cooperate. His school life wasn’t bad, compared to the nauseating waves of those that got earnestly bullied and insulated with violence — his life was a meagre splatter in misfortune. He never complained, he couldn’t bring himself to complain in his junior year, joining the school paper, and his interest in the truth became a coping fixation. He didn’t belong, yes, but he could belong on the right side of truth and justification. Friends were a novelty in people who shared his vision in secret circles, collecting under the breachers and sparing himself from the glaring gazes that searched his back. His father, most of all, wants Fred to grow up, and eventually marry a young, pretty thing with a good family. Reputation means everything to his pissed yellow teeth, faux gold and that’s the only thing Fred can accredit to his family, gilded in normal lies.


!
 
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scroll








witch's daughter



greer













mood

mood here











outfit

outfit











location

location here











interactions

interactions here











tags

tags here















Name: Greer Louise Scott
Nicknames: Lou, Louie
Age: 16 (junior)
Appearance: Greer is five feet tall with pale blue eyes and dark brown hair. She's got very fair skin with which she liberally applies sunscreen when it's sunny out. Her hair is long, curly, and thick. Not a lot can tame the unruly locks that poof out to twice their size. Her hair is soft despite the poofy look to it and even though the girls at school laugh because her hair won't straighten, she doesn't mind its wildness. Greer's face is fairly delicate in appearance, but there's something about her that looks fae-like and unsettling. She looks almost as if she's not meant to be apart of this world. She has an upturned nose, high cheekbones, and down turned, full lips. She's willowy and thin, almost bird-like in structure. Her teeth are white and straight, thanks to braces that just recently got taken off. Greer, having a rebellious, young mother, was allowed to wear and do what she wanted. So Greer sports two lobe piercings and a tiny stick and poke tattoo of a heart on her ankle. Recently, she's been trying to fit in more, so she covers up her tattoo with long socks and covers her piercings with her hair. Greer and her mother are the same size so they often share clothes. Despite Greer wanting to fit in, money is tight so she's often seen around town in her mother's older clothes. Her mother is working to buy her clothes in the style the other girls wear, slowly updating her daughter's closet one piece at a time.
FC: Ann Kuleshova
Personality: Greer, to begin with, is your average teenage girl. All she wants is friends and a little bit of popularity. Or at least, maybe to be less of an outcast. Greer is, for the most part, an easy going girl, she rarely complains, works hard often, and let's things roll off her shoulders. She's insightful and empathetic but often is blinded by her desire to assimilate. She wants to fit in with the other girls so bad sometimes that she forgets there's other things to life than being liked. She has such an urge to be loved by everyone, that she forgets about the people who already do love her. The people that really matter. Despite this craving for a smidgeon of attention, she's a very good friend, never one to leave others behind.
Bio: Greer was born out of wedlock and teen pregnancy to single outcast, Kenna Scott. Kenna, a young woman of seventeen, was supported for a while by her family: Scottish immigrants, Aileen and Malcolm Scott. But after a fatal car crash when Kenna was twenty-five and Greer was seven, the two were on their own. By that time, Kenna's faith had deteriorated after the hardships in life she faced and her parents' accident was the last straw. Kenna was no longer a godly woman and Greer no longer a godly child. It didn't take long after this department from the Church that Kenna and Greer were ousted to the borders of town and looked down upon as heretics. Kenna took it all in stride, but Greer had a harder time, growing up in such a God-fearing town meant that it was something that one needed to fit in. Greer now goes to Church as regularly as she dares and recently had her first communion with the younger children. Her patron saint is Saint Gertrude simply because she really likes cats.


♡coded by uxie♡
 
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/* ------ left side ------ */





name

Beauregard Graham.


nickname

Beau


age

18 years old.


date of birth

25th July


grade

Senior.












gender
Male.

Role
The Golden Boy.

sexuality
"Straight" (Extremely closeted)







visage
height
6 ft 2 inches.

hair
Arguably the softest hair among the student body. Brown like the damp sand of the beach, styled to look effortless, to make you ask yourself: "What would it be like to comb my fingers through it?"

eyes
Hazel. Although the light often reflects them to be a greenish-blue sometimes.

body type
Mesomorph: He's the star athlete after all! Keeping top form is extremely important to his student image—can't disappoint the ladies, am I right?

body mods
Nothing his clothes can show.

face claim
Jensen Ackles.


personality type - ESFP-A

Positive traits

Humorous
Light-hearted
Supportive
Charismatic
Easygoing
People-Person
Bold

Negative traits

Unfocused
Willfully Ignorant
Conflict-Avoiding
Insecure
Easily Bored
Temperamental
Dismissive



humor


impulsiveness


direction in life


confrontation


vibey-ness


himbo-ness


To most, he's your friendly neighborhood himbo who's a sucker for good times and getting into sticky situations—literally and figuratively. He'll give you a wink and a smile but don't expect anything more than a couple of wild child escapades before he ghosts you, as much as he longs for love and affection, he lacks the commitment to make things work. Not to mention he shares the attention span of a goldfish you'd win in the county fair at age five; one second his eyes are on you, and the next he's making animals out of the abstract clouds in the sky. There's never a serious nor dull moment when Beau is around, where ever he went, laughter followed. In the face of confrontation, he's quick to change the subject, he hates talking about himself and would much rather live in the moment than dwell on the past. He acts as if he's in a whole other world of his own, head empty and leaping into thrills.

When you've been on top of the social food chain since elementary school, the most common adjective about you would be "cool". Cool could mean a lot of things and somehow Beau encapsulated all definitions of the word. He was cool in the way his friends enjoyed it. Suave. Charismatic. Down to have a good time and not particularly a long one. The one who'd laugh at stupid jokes at his own expense and make even worse comebacks—the "cool dude". He was also cool the same way one would describe the glaciers. Cold. Untouchable. Unachievable yet desirable nonetheless. Cool in the way marble statues of heroes were; stone freezing, yet chiseled to perfection. One single breath from him could be praised as if he invented the concept and a smile would garner a reaction you'd imagine people would wear when they meet god.

Behind the curtains, Beau is the furthest thing from a cool dude—borderlining hot mess. They say heavy is the crown, the same could be said about medals. Being the golden champion meant the same as a self-portrait being made of you by a painter who has never seen your face and only knows the deeds you've done. You don't see yourself in the end, but an ideal image of yourself. A picture meant to uphold and a persona meant to be played to perfection. Behind his painting stood Beauregard Graham, a teenager with quirks and issues.

Burrowed in the cracks of his pedestal was his habit of knowing when he should be driving up to school to ensure he had someone in his clique to keep him company because he didn't like the individual attention. And don't even get him started on his weakness to peer pressure. Despite perceived notions, Beau can't stand isolation; and when you strike gold in the popularity lottery, it is easy to go broke by one simple utterance of "no". If allowing his peers to walk all over him made him a doormat, then so be it, at least he was a beloved doormat. The kind of doormat that got invited to parties at the expense of looking the other way at distasteful sights, covering for his good ol' pals when they asked—barely questioning, only going along. It wasn't like he had no sense of morals, he'd give his mutters of protest when he knew there was a line being crossed but he hid any tones of frustrations with playful shoves and boyish attitude.



likes
The smell of the pitch in the morning, healthy snackies, summertime, good ol' competition, Cher, those joke books you'd find in a 2nd hand shop, football (duh).

dislikes
His parents' dumb parties, candid photos, attending the Sunday services, the smell of cheap perfume, the smell of cigarette smoke, big formal events, tests, taxidermied animals, silence.

allergies
Beau has a pretty knarely peanut allergy.

hidden talent
His best class besides physical education is actually home economics! He's very good at cooking and sewing weirdly enough.

headcanons
✮ is actually a really nice dude. will help granny's cross the street.
✮ has undiagnosed dyslexia and adhd.
✮ he has a fake laugh for the public to hear, and a hyena chortle for his friends.
✮ is actually very lost with what he wants to do after high school and yes, he's in a panic.
✮ giving very 30/90 energy internally.
✮ maybe it's popularity, maybe it's ✨ being micromanaged by everyone around you ✨
✮ despite popular beliefs, he has never done drugs and only drinks socially.
✮ is very oblivious to his social standing and the success that comes with it.
✮ cares a lot about what people think.
✮ his and his brothers' rooms have doors in between their connecting walls so beau could always bug them.
✮ lowkey needy.
little more



history



❝𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦.❞

The Grahams were what every family dreamt of being. All-American, white picket fences, and a great big property. Beauregard Graham was the firstborn of the firstborn, a legacy of the great Graham clan. They were infamous—local legends. Everyone in town knew about the southern socialites and the parties they loved to throw, how their blood shared the origins of the town's founding fathers.

There was a lot of power to the Graham name and every member of the family was aware of it. And there were many of them too. Beauregard's father—Credence Graham was the first of seven siblings and the patriarch of his nuclear family of eight. He was head of the house and wielded influence beyond the estate. Credence held a position in local politics while his wife—Margot Graham, stayed home to watch their children.

Their dynamic was... not ideal. But it was manageable. The number one priority of the Graham family was everything and everyone being in their place no matter how horrible that place may be. In life, everyone has a role to play. No matter how unsatisfactory the role is. No one wants to be a part of the ensemble in the school play and everyone wanted to be the lead, but the play can't operate if everyone got what they wanted, right?



❝𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧.❞

You know a place is shit when the most notable thing about it is its forestry. And Hollan was known to have the most beautiful forestry. Which isn’t a lie but it does show how barren the place is for tourism resources. The most people Beau had seen come around are either extended family of residents in the summertime or gun owners for hunting season. Besides his father’s lack of presence for a good chunk of his life every year, Beauregard knew that he will always come back for hunting season. And luckily for him, he likes to make shooting buck and deer a moment for father-son bonding, a chance for young Beauregard Graham to grow a pair and become a hunting man like him, his grandfather, his grandfather’s father, and the fathers that come before everyone else. Just Credence, Beau, his hunting equipment, and the great outdoors. If it were another father-son duo and not his own, Beau would’ve believed that the tradition was a wholesome little thing. But they were Graham men, and Graham men work differently.

Graham men like to prove a point, and the point his father was determined to prove was that he could make Beau less of a scrawny little boy who enjoyed playing video games and drawings and more of a man. Never mix a people-pleasing kid with a pushing man. To compare the things that Beau had to do during hunting season to military training would be an understatement. As big as his old man had become, he had a way of commanding an audience of one with his booming voice alone. He taught Beau everything he knew, from stalking prey, to shooting, to skinning. He may not have shot a deer on day one but he slowly got the hang of skinning rabbit to the point it became muscle memory. Beau’s gangly hands wielding my father’s hunting knife and gently digging it into the back of the body—he was better at it than his father because he made sure not to dig too deep and ruin the meat. He’d pop their legs, cut their ankles, and run the blade again around where its neck met the skull. Looking back, Beau was pretty sure they used some of the fur to make a throw pillow and the meat was in a warm stew the family maid prepared the day after.

Beauregard was a good kid and knew how to take orders, like any obedient boy would with their father. It was nice to have those moments with his father where he didn’t have to see him as a piggish slob but as a mentor. It turned into a routine for a good portion of his childhood where they’d go out, his dad would shoot rabbits for the whole season and he’d skin them and harvest their meat and fur. And on the final day he’d shoot down the biggest buck they saw, Credence Graham would tie it to the same old truck he’d rent, and he’d call the local taxidermist to have it preserved, stuffed, and mounted in his home office. When Beauregard turned fifteen, the routine was unchanged until the final day. Instead of holding onto a pair of binoculars to help spot the perfect buck, he was given his dad’s Winchester. He didn’t explain to Beau the reason but he didn’t have to, Graham men aren’t much talkers. And when he killed his first buck, after they went to go tie it up, his father took him to oak tree in the middle of the forest instead of home. The tree was stained in aged blood, layers of Graham history seeped into bark. He sliced Beau’s hand open and pressed it against the wood, joining him to his lineage, marking him as a man.

It was disgusting.

Beaumonte never felt more like a man.






❝𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐮𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞—𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐭.❞

By sophomore year in high school, Beauregard decided he didn't entirely like Hollan. Yet, it was the only thing he really had going for him. Violin was a bust and football became the one constant in his life that paved the road to success. The talk of scholarships through the sport had been a common point in every conversation with his parents—his father especially. "How are you home so early? He'd say whenever he wasn't in his dragon's den. "Doesn't your coach know anything about work ethic?" Rugby easily became his life. And everything around him was just an accessory to the lifestyle Credence Graham had set for his son.

It was his bridge to everything; his father, his mother, his friends, his school. Sure, his family's bank account and flashing opulence played as the hook to his growing popularity but it was the prowess that acted as the sinker. Without it, he didn't know what he would have become. All the Graham children were golden children. However, the thickness of their gold coating was different. His brothers were the brains—the graceful ones, those who never failed an exam, renaissance men and women. And Beau on was the brawns. Whatever that meant beyond sports and athletics. Where his siblings had been looking into the future by the time they hit first year, Beau stayed festering and drifting into the expanse of the unknown, blanketed in the stability of everything familiar to him.

He always knew how the water tasted in Hollan; every make-out spot at school, what every carving engraved in the forest trees said, and every trick in the book to remain afloat.

As his championship titles started to stack up, the more his place in school was secured. Golden boy. Once the rising underclassman playing with the big boys, now the heartthrob senior who wooed the student body with his athletic figure and coolheaded demeanor. In his final year of high school, some say he had the world in the palm of his hands. Who really cared if college was on the horizon? The football team was already made of fratboys; drinking till they walked like headless chickens and singing like wasted sailors stranded in the middle of the sea. Whatever pit growing in his stomach was just a figment of his imagination. The cringes he got from his own team were affectionate. His neediness to stay afloat was a joke.

If you ignore the cracks of an already weak foundation, what does it matter? A building is still a building. It isn't broken until it crumbles into rubble.






/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 
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OOOOO i definitely have such a cool and pretty layout definitely OOOOO

Name: Irene Clark.
age: 18
Grade: Senior
Height: 5'7
D.o.b: February 15th.
Sexuality: Asexual. Has not self-reflected more than that.

Role: New kid. Skeptic (read; frosty bitch).

Appearance: Alice Pagani42A05D7B-D84F-45E6-8F2D-E9024EEE8E58.jpeg

Positive traits:
-Resourceful.
-Crafty.
-Honest.
-Loyal.
-Studious.
-Hardworking.
-Inquisitive.
-Means well.

Negative traits:
-Will not say hi to you in the hallway (she forgets your face).
-Does not know how to socialize.
-Has reasoned that she does not need to socialize.
-Set in her ways.
-A bit of an ego.
-Will not spare your feelings.
-Struggles to understand other perspectives.
-Anxious AND a skeptic (bad combination in a horror rp).
-Can I put rich? Rich.


Bio: Being forced to move at the beginning of the senior school year was about the most cliched thing that could happen to a girl.

Irene dealt with it, of course. She was too old by now to throw anxious tantrums, and admittedly was getting to the age where if Irene wanted to return to Toronto, true independence was a (relatively) near prospect. Even so, having been born and raised in the closest thing Canada had to a metropolis, a new life in a sleepy American town such as Hollan, Louisiana was definitely.. One of those things she had to acclimate to.

Especially when Irene only had her slightly estranged dad and her 2nd least favourite grandma for company. And her eleven year old brother, who barely counted but gwas the only face that she was actually used to seeing.

..God, Irene missed her mom.

Like, sure, it was fine - mom was alive and well in Toronto, and she even still sent Irene her allowance through the mail- but truth be told Irene just wanted a hug her. Or to talk to her through something more than the one ugly beige rotary phone her grandma had.

Irene liked her dad, but their conversations were always kind of stilted, even when she lived in Toronto and would come over for the summer. It was almost painful, scrambling for something to talk about. When she was younger, she was not equipped to confront that dread and awkwardness. As a result, Irene often left the house to go play in the woods, instead of actually connecting with her dad.

Even now, as an adult, she shied away from many of their conversations.

But that was to be expected. the last time she and her dad lived-lived under one roof, Irene was a baby and he was still together with her mom.

Now, Irene’s father only wanted her here in Hollan for her senior year, and she could kind of understand why. She figured he just wanted to spend some time with her before she became an adult...

And she wanted to spend time with him too. He was cool. Thoughtful, and quiet, very quiet, but not mean. And he always paid child support. Honestly, that was enough for her not to hate him.

So, All in all, she was glad to stay in Hollan for her senior year. It was weird, and small, and there were like zero buses, and very old (her grandma’s house still had a *coal chute* for God’s sake).

But if it was her dad’s home, maybe it could be hers too?

EDIT: …I forgot to add her appearance LOL. I was tired. Also, I noticed that op got together a cast a bit before I posted Irene. Was I too late for the margin? Should I take the cs down? Not mad obvi, just wondering
 
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