Realistic or Modern Street Life | Character Sheets

Qwertycakes · Jul 5, 2023

$treet Life

smog isn't blue, someone shoulda warned you

♡coded by uxie♡

Y'all know the drill. Go nuts! The more descriptive, the better.
Please be sure to include your character's occupation, physical description, a brief history, and any other info you deem pertinent!

tamarapasek · Jul 6, 2023

elena ferrari

# the feisty single mother

#ludovica martino

♡coded by uxie♡
leanna gallinger

#the precocious freshie

# kiernan shipka

♡coded by uxie♡
corazon jimenez

#the cynical mama bear

# kathryn bernardo

♡coded by uxie♡
mayan jimenez

# the bubbly dreamer

# maris racal

♡coded by uxie♡
wilhemina jimenez

# the oddball people pleaser

# liza soberano

♡coded by uxie♡
josephine kingston

# the jaded child-star

# natalia dyer

♡coded by uxie♡
ashley park

# the mischievous gremlin

# lexi underwood

♡coded by uxie♡

neverbackdown · Jul 7, 2023

There prob will be more and still slight wips for songs histories

Brianna Carter
The Belladonnas
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full name
Brianna Carter
nicknames
Bri / B
age
25
date of birth
24th July
gender
Female
sexuality
Bisexual
Occupation
Dealer//Soldier
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height & weight
5'2 and 112lbs
hair
Long naturally curly dark brown hair with stand-out light pink highlights.
eyes
Dark brown eyes
physique
She has a small frame, light brown skin, and almond-shaped, brown eyes.
style
Quite tomboyish by design, She tends to choose more comfortable outfits that she can easily run or fight in. Has a love for all things plaid and leather jackets are a must. She normally wears a beanie.
modifications
Both ears are pierced.Bellybutton is also pierced.
face claim
Vanessa Morgan
Fake Fine
Robert Grace
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likes
Feeling powerful, reading, crime stories, drugs, alcohol, parties, being right, sunsets, the beach, thunderstorms, fights, dancing, nightclubs,

dislikes
the police, being told what to do/what not to do, the colour orange, being underestimated, sexist pigs, racists, the government, politics,

personality
Brianna is a darkly humorous, apathetic, cynical "conscientious objector" with a quick temper and a lot of secrets.

She's crafty, intelligent, the type of girl to always have a trick up her sleeve. She can have a quick and impatient temper especially if someone annoys her or is seen to be incompetent.

Brianna is extremely street smart with a high level of confidence in herself and her abilities. She is brave, courageous and will never back down from a fight. Her worst nightmare is appearing weak. Due to being a girl, she feels she has to work hardier and act stronger to be taken seriously.

She can be extremely skeptical of new people but once she warms up to you you will have made a friend for life.

Brianna knows how to let go and have fun especially around her friends, she's always up for a party and is the person who you can call at 3am and know that she will be down for whatever crazy adventure you have lined up. She believes in living life to the fullest and wants to make memories. "Live fast die pretty" is her motto.

Don't let the niceness fool you tho, if you cross her Brianna can be extremely unforgiving and harsh.

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History
TBD
coded by natasha.
Isabel Lopez
Los Sureños
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full name
Isabel Lopez
nicknames
n/a
age
29
date of birth
6th December
gender
Female
sexuality
Pansexual
Occupation
Nightclub Owner/Consigliere
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height & weight
5'5 and 119lbs
hair
Long naturally straight dark brown hair
eyes
Piercing hazel eyes.
physique
Isabel stands at average height yet gives of the impression of being smaller. She has a slim yet athletic figure.
style
She can be quite dressy but her style completely depends on what she is doing at that time.
modifications
Both ears are pierced.
face claim
Ana de Armas
Fake Fine
Robert Grace
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likes
Horror movies, parties, socialising, working, cocktails, white wine, guns, having a position of power

dislikes
being underestimated, being told no, true crime documentaries (they just dont get it right), thunderstorms, overly emotional people,

personality
Isabel is normally known for being calm and collected. She is very efficient in high stress situations as she thinks quickly without breaking a sweat. She is extremely versatile, mysterious, and ferociously dangerous if you are against her.

She is fearless, as well as stoic, efficient, cunning, intelligent, and unpredictable. She does not normally show any fear whatsoever in the face of any danger. She is extremely ruthless and will happily fight a grown man with her bare hands and will not let anyone walk over her. If you are in the wrong, she will let you know.

She can come across as quite standoffish initially but it just takes her some time to warm up to people. Trust and loyalty are extremely important to her and once you gain them she will protect you with her life. If you break them, well she may just take your life....

Isabel does have a softer side deep deep down and only those she holds close will see it.

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History
TBD
coded by natasha.
Riley Johnson
The Rebellious Free Spirit
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full name
Riley Johnson
nicknames
n/a
age
17
date of birth
25th November
gender
Female
sexuality
Pansexual
Occupation
Student/Tattoo artist apprentice
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height & weight
5'2 and 99 lbs
hair
Long naturally straight black hair normally worn a little messy in a "I woke up like this way"
eyes
Piercing blue eyes illuminated by the black eyeliner she refuses to leave the house without
physique
Riley stands below average height at 5'2 with a slim yet slightly athletic build
style
Riley has always been quite tomboyish in her style usually picking comfort above all else.
modifications
She's literally a walking sketchbook has been building her tattoo collection, thanks to her older brother, since she was 16. Also has a septum piercing and both ears pierced. She has a few scars but they're mostly hidden by her tattoos. Arms legs
face claim
Nonsalemwitch on instagram (Claire Estabrook)
You call me a Bitch like its a bad thing
Halestorm
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likes
Parties, alcohol, drugs, smoking, art, drawing, doodles, tattoos, thunderstorms, the rain, graveyards (they relax her), exploring new places especially old and abandoned places (even better if there's a haunted story to it), horror films, swimming, the woods, animals, murder mysteries.

dislikes
Dark chocolate, heights, being bored, being told what to do or alternatively what not to do, clowns, her father, romantic movies, PDA, cheaters, being lied to

Fears
Heights, dark and enclosed spaces, that she's not really wanted/unloveable, that everything is her own fault

Skills
self-defence, climbing, sneaking around/moving around without being heard (height and weight play into this)

Wishes/Dreams
To be a tattoo artist

personality

Riley is rebellious and alluring. She is brave and doesnt back down from a fight. She's spontaneous and tends to act on a whim leaving the consequences of her actions to be thought about/dealt with at a later stage.

Riley can be most accurately described as Free. She doesn't care for other peoples opinions or what other people think of her and so living her life how she chooses to.

She is an atsy kind of person and tends to express her emotions through tattoing her skin or doodling in her sketchpad.

Riley is extremely stubborn and once her mind is made up it can be hard to talk her out of it. She can be pretty skeptical towards new people due to past experiences, she is slow to trust but once she does you will have her extremely loyalty. Trust and loyalty are very important to her and if you break them, you may never get it back. She can go from your best friend to your worst nightmare in seconds if you cross her.

Riley is a partier and chooses to live life to the fullest, the way she see's it is that her time to have fun is now before shes older and has responsibilities, her motto is "Live Fast, Die Pretty" and the proof is in the way she lives her life. Many people have commented on the fact that Riley acts as though she has a death wish, but Riley has never looked that far into her decisions.

She is a great listener and can be just as good at giving advice. She's caring, passionate and would do anything for her friends, even if it meant putting herself in danger.

Riley gives of the persona of being carefree and easy just cruising through life and taking each day at a time. However she's not as care free as she wants people to believe.

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History
Riley's mother was a doting, passionate artist and mother. She was loving, kind and loved her kids with everything she had unfortunately she died when Riley was 6 and most of what Riley knows about her mother is what she has been told by her brother, Oli. Riley's father withdrew himself from his children after their mother died and the siblings tend to blame their father for what happened, after all it was because of his dodgy gambling and lack of ability to pay debts that got their mother killed in the first place.Riley and Oli have basically had to fend for themselves since their mother died, while Oli, being 5 years older, essentially took over the father role of Riley , Riley still did her best to help out where she could and the two are a very close duo.

Their fathers gambling never stopped and got worse after their mothers passing, he also began to drink heavily and continues to plummet himself into more debt with even more dangerous men. Throughout her life, Riley has dealt with break ins, attempted kidnappings and other stuff which has caused her hard exterior and tough nature.

When Oli turned 16 he began working in a tattoo parlor as an apprentice and quickly became an established artist with high reviews. He moved out shortly after and took Riley with him.
coded by natasha.
Emmy Gallagher
Mama Bear
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full name
Emily Gallagher
nicknames
Emmy/Em
age
24
date of birth
3rd April
gender
Female
sexuality
Heterosexual
Occupation
Waitress at the Diner
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height & weight
5'8 and 119lbs
hair
Long brown hair with natural wave to it. She tends to have her hair down or in a messy bun.
eyes
Deep judging brown eyes.
physique
She has olive skin and dark brown eyes. Naturally slim and tall.
style
Usually wears form fitting clothes. Usually hand me down or what she can afford, she doesn't wear designer that's for sure.
modifications
Both ears are pierced.
face claim
Emmy Rossum
Fake Fine
Robert Grace
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likes
Her siblings, alcohol, drugs (in moderation), cigarettes, parties, woodland,

dislikes
her parents, obnoxious people, talking about her past, the fact that she didn't finish school, feeling like a failure

personality
Emmy is tough, scrappy, determined, resourceful and not afraid to get into a fight. She is a survivor and no matter what challenge they fall into, Emmy will always find a way to get it done. She is very protective over her family having basically raised them as her own since she was a kid herself, due to this she is extremely self-reliant and in most respects mature for her age. She is extremely reliable and is always there for the people she cares about and will do anything for them.

Emmy struggles with self-esteem issues. She's short-tempered due to stress, often so tired and overworked that she neglects to brush her hair or get adequate sleep. She hides her more sensitive side underneath her tough, confident exterior; it's difficult for her to ask for help.

Emmy can be quite spontaneous and impulsive and doesn't always appear to have her own best interests in heart. She makes impulsive choices which can lead to her getting hurt. While she can give some great advice and is an amazing listener, she doesn't follow her own advice.

While Emmy is responsible and somewhat mature , she also is only 24 and sometimes needs to let loose and act like someone her own age. She enjoys having a drink with her friends and hitting the clubs or house parties. She is the life of the party once she gets going and is always up for a fun time

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History
Emmy is the first born child of Charles and Fiona Gallagher. She is the main carer for the Gallagher household since her mother left when Emmy was 12 years old. Her father is an alcoholic drug user and is never really around. He pops in now and again but mostly to rob from them or to hide from people he owes money too. Fiona does not have a great relationship with her father, however, she does take care of him at times, like dragging him in from the yard when he has passed out. She dropped out of school at 15 to provide for the family and has been working low paying jobs ever since.
coded by natasha.
Jimmy Gallagher
The Bratva
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full name
James Gallagher
nicknames
Jimmy / Gallagher
age
21
date of birth
5th August
gender
Male
sexuality
Heterosexual
Occupation
Mechanic/Driver (Gang)
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height & weight
5'5 and 120lbs
hair
Brown messy hair.
eyes
Mesmerizing blue eyes
physique
muscular, average height.
style
Uusally comfy clothes, not overly stylish.
modifications
Some tattoos
face claim
Jeremy Allan White
Fake Fine
Robert Grace
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likes
His siblings, alcohol, drugs, cigarettes, parties, cars, all thing electrical, going for joyrides and long scenic drives,

dislikes
his parents, his sister following in his footsteps, broccoli, the colour orange

personality
Jimmy is extremely intelligent like his sister Kenzie, . Despite his intelligence Jimmy can be very irresponsible and self-sabotaging. He doesn't really think things through sometimes and often gets into trouble just for the sake of it and failing to think out the consequences. He is a bit of a loner.

Jimmy is somewhat self-destructive and when things seem to be going too well, he has a tendency to destroy any chance he has. Its almost like he doesn't believe that good things can be happening for him or that he is unworthy in some way. He tended to rebel against social norms when he was younger, but appears a bit more grounded since leaving for college.

Jimmy is fiercely protective of those closest but especially of his two sisters, Emmy and Kenzie. He knows that they can handle themselves however and tries to give them the chance to do so but god help anyone who hurts them. He is extremely loyal and a good friend to have in your corner.

Like his sisters, Jimmy is not one to back down from a fight and once challenged there is no stopping him. He can be a bit standoffish at first but can be a pretty sweet guy if you get to know him.

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History
Jimmy is the middle child of the Gallagher household and the only male. He is very protective over his siblings and helped Emmy to raise Kenzie as kids.
coded by natasha.
Kenzie Gallagher
The Bratva
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full name
Mackenzie Gallagher
nicknames
Kenzie/Kenz
age
16
date of birth
6th June
gender
Female
sexuality
Heterosexual
Occupation
Student/Drug Runner
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height & weight
5'5 and 120lbs
hair
Long brown hair naturally straight
eyes
Doe like blue eyes with a troubling glint always present
physique
She has olive skin and dark brown eyes. Naturally slim and tall.
style
Form fitting clothes. Usually hand me downs
modifications
Both ears are pierced.
face claim
Kaya Scodelario
Fake Fine
Robert Grace
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likes
Her siblings, alcohol, drugs, cigarettes, parties, camping, swimming,

dislikes
her parents, herself sometimes, being alone, being told what to do, feeling left out, crowds of people, school, homework,

personality
Kenzie like her sister is tough, scrappy and is not afraid to get into a fight. She is resourceful and determined and hates the idea of asking for help. She puts on cold front and can come across as quite harsh and uncaring. She is sarcastic, stubborn and can at times put herself before other people. She has her feeling stashed away and is unimpressed with people who tend to wear their hearts on their sleeve.

Kenzie is rebellious, manipulative, alluring and highly cunning. She goes after what she wants and has no problem using her body or words to get it. Once her mind is set on something she will try anything for it. She is spontaneous and impulsive and lives her life quite reckless, giving very little regard for herself or any consequences that may arise.

Kenzie is a partier and chooses to live life to the fullest. She is always up for an adventure and enjoys going out with her friends.

Kenzie is brutally honest and trust is very important to her, once broken you will not get this back. She is not someone you want on your badside.
While to the outside world, Kenzie seems cold and harsh, she is a good friend to have and would do anything for those she holds close. She is a good listener and can be just as good at giving advice, having gained this trait from her sister. She puts on the facade of being the mean girl with no empathy but deep down, locked away in a little box there is a somewhat broken girl bursting with emotions if someone was lucky enough to open the box.

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History
Kenzie is the baby of the family. The youngest child of Fiona and Charles Gallagher and the younger sister of Emily. Kenzie does not really remember her mother as she left with Kenzie was only 6 years old. Kenzie doesn't really have a relationship with her father, finding the man to just be some drunk who lodges in their house for free at times. Kenzie was basically raised by her sister, Emily and has a great relationship with her.
coded by natasha.
Katerina Milyukov
The Bratva
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full name
Katerina Milyukov
nicknames
Kat,
age
27
date of birth
6th October
gender
Female
sexuality
Bisexual
Occupation
Car Dealership Owner / Mechanic
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height & weight
5'6 and 130lbs
hair
Long dark brown hair. Naturally straight but normally worn in curls.
eyes
Piercing blue eyes.
physique
Kat stands around average height at 5'6. She has a medium to slim build.
style
Her style isn't really her style. Kat purposely chooses her clothes on how she wished to be viewed. Powerful and a boss. Her clothes are normally business attire and quite dressy/girly.
modifications
Ears are pierced.
face claim
Elizabeth Gillies
Fake Fine
Robert Grace
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likes
Wine, Bourbon, drugs (in the right scenarios) her brothers, cars (admiring or fixing them just anything to do with them), music, dancing,

dislikes
The police, her father, being underestimated, being told what to do or what not to do, romcoms, PDA,

personality
Kat is extremely intelligent both in business and social ways. She is cunning, sly and extremely manipulative thanks to her charismatic aura and her skill with wordplay. Kat knows what she wants and goes after it regardless of the circumstances or who she has to take down in her way.

Being female was always seen as a disadvantage in the life she was born into and while she did have her brothers to look out for her, Kat quickly came to realise that she had to fight for respect and to have a voice with other people. It was from this realisation that the confidant, brash and unapologetic persona comes from. Kat is extremely tough and versatile, she will never back down from a fight and has no issue with getting her hands dirty in the process. She is extremely independant and hates appearing weak or having to ask for help from anyone. She is very stubborn and once she has something in mind it is extremely difficult to talk her out of it. Kat is extremely sarcastic which can at times make her seem cold and off putting.

Kat can be quite impulsive and rash at times, while she tends to try and stay calm and calculated, sometimes a scenario calls for a quick brash action and Kat is not afraid to be the one to "pull the trigger" as they say. Having been extremely rebellious and reckless in her youth, Kat seems to have evened out a bit as she aged (or she just got better at not getting caught).

Kat can come across as quite cold at first but that is just the mask she holds. To people that actually know her, Kat is a kind hearted, caring girl with a good heart. She does what she needs to to survive and thrive in her world. Kat is extremely charismatic and the life of the party. She enjoys letting her hair down and having a good time and just letting go.

While she is riddled with trust issues, it can take some time for you to gain her trust but once you do she will love you and protect you unconditionally. She is extremely protective of those she holds closest to her.

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History
TBD
coded by natasha.

LooneyLani · Jul 8, 2023

/* ------ left side ------ */

name

Faith Eloise Carson

nickname

Eloise, Fae, Fate, Eli, Boss Lady

age

31

date of birth

12th March

place of birth

Los Angeles

gender

Cisfemale.

Association

Belladonnas

Occupation

Owner of Little Joys baker; while functioning as a normal bakery, it is also used to launder money for the Belladonnas and as a way to sell some very illegal products.

Sexuality

Pansexual

Languages

English, French, Spanish, and basic Russian

Living Situation

Lives in Skidrow

visage

height

170cm (5'7")

physique

Slender and toned, has natural curves

hair

Usually cascades in natural waves down her spine, though she tucks the long locks up into an adorably messy bun when she works

eyes

Striking green, sometimes blue, with hazel flecks

other features

She has noticeably sharp features softened by kind eyes, and twin dimples when she smiles

body mods

Her ears have an assortment of earrings at all times, and she has a small number of very carefully concealed fine-line tattoos, at one point in her youth she had a lip ring but the scar has long since healed

face claim

Alycia Debnam-Carey

personality alignment - chaotic good

Positive traits

..

Negative traits

..

..

..

..

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likes

…

dislikes

…

love language

..

word wall

…

little more

history

title here.

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title here.

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Morbi vitae lobortis metus. Vestibulum ipsum augue, congue in blandit et, ornare vitae dui. Aenean sollicitudin libero id nibh posuere, sed iaculis ex dictum. Morbi posuere commodo diam, nec molestie sapien volutpat eget. Proin molestie finibus eros ac posuere. Ut ullamcorper vel sapien ac interdum. Praesent euismod luctus vestibulum. Aliquam ac urna et nunc ullamcorper vulputate sit amet nec ipsum. Duis porttitor mollis nisl a blandit. Ut eleifend ligula et pellentesque aliquam. Aliquam erat volutpat.

title here

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Morbi vitae lobortis metus. Vestibulum ipsum augue, congue in blandit et, ornare vitae dui. Aenean sollicitudin libero id nibh posuere, sed iaculis ex dictum. Morbi posuere commodo diam, nec molestie sapien volutpat eget. Proin molestie finibus eros ac posuere. Ut ullamcorper vel sapien ac interdum. Praesent euismod luctus vestibulum. Aliquam ac urna et nunc ullamcorper vulputate sit amet nec ipsum. Duis porttitor mollis nisl a blandit. Ut eleifend ligula et pellentesque aliquam. Aliquam erat volutpat.

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

LooneyLani · Jul 8, 2023

/* ------ left side ------ */

name

Isaac Sun-Hee Lee

nickname

Sunny, Kitty, Angel

age

22

date of birth

15th September

place of birth

Adelaide, South Australia

gender

Cismale.

Association

No gang-affiliation

Occupation

Bartender, and a volunteer nurse for the hospital

Sexuality

Pansexual

Languages

English, Korean, ASL, and basic Spanish

Living Situation

Lives in Skidrow

visage

height

171cm (5'7")

physique

Slender and toned, rocking that 6 pack

hair

Changes constantly depending on what length he's grown it to. It usually curls softly and is fluffy, at a slightly longer length. He does most prefer when it's long enough to tie in a half-up, half-down ponytail

eyes

Deep warm chocolate brown

other features

Most notable is the splattering of freckles across his sharp cheekbones and over the bridge of his nose. Sometimes he covers them with makeup when he feels self-conscious.

body mods

Numerous, ever changing ear piercings on either side. A small number of fine tattoos in easy-to-cover places, and most recently a tongue piercing.

face claim

Felix Lee

personality alignment - neutral good

Positive traits

..

Negative traits

..

..

..

..

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Pellentesque molestie vel magna blandit efficitur. Vestibulum consequat laoreet nibh quis viverra. Aenean et enim quis nulla faucibus molestie ut non odio. Etiam posuere quam ut nisl consectetur, in sagittis est euismod. Donec sit amet pellentesque est, nec tempus eros. Sed ut volutpat ex. Nullam sagittis ipsum massa, et tincidunt libero pretium nec. Sed turpis dolor, maximus sit amet dapibus non, egestas non erat. In eu tempor ipsum. Aliquam convallis neque vulputate hendrerit rutrum. Nam porta nulla ut lorem facilisis, vel tincidunt quam sodales. Integer mi velit, semper vel justo vitae, venenatis placerat massa. Nullam condimentum a felis in scelerisque.

Morbi vitae lobortis metus. Vestibulum ipsum augue, congue in blandit et, ornare vitae dui. Aenean sollicitudin libero id nibh posuere, sed iaculis ex dictum. Morbi posuere commodo diam, nec molestie sapien volutpat eget. Proin molestie finibus eros ac posuere. Ut ullamcorper vel sapien ac interdum. Praesent euismod luctus vestibulum. Aliquam ac urna et nunc ullamcorper vulputate sit amet nec ipsum. Duis porttitor mollis nisl a blandit. Ut eleifend ligula et pellentesque aliquam. Aliquam erat volutpat.

likes

…

dislikes

…

love language

Hugs & cuddles, hand holding, resting chin on shoulder, booping noses, saying "i love you" unprompted, remembering the little things.

word wall

…

little more

history

title here.

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Morbi vitae lobortis metus. Vestibulum ipsum augue, congue in blandit et, ornare vitae dui. Aenean sollicitudin libero id nibh posuere, sed iaculis ex dictum. Morbi posuere commodo diam, nec molestie sapien volutpat eget. Proin molestie finibus eros ac posuere. Ut ullamcorper vel sapien ac interdum. Praesent euismod luctus vestibulum. Aliquam ac urna et nunc ullamcorper vulputate sit amet nec ipsum. Duis porttitor mollis nisl a blandit. Ut eleifend ligula et pellentesque aliquam. Aliquam erat volutpat.

title here.

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Morbi vitae lobortis metus. Vestibulum ipsum augue, congue in blandit et, ornare vitae dui. Aenean sollicitudin libero id nibh posuere, sed iaculis ex dictum. Morbi posuere commodo diam, nec molestie sapien volutpat eget. Proin molestie finibus eros ac posuere. Ut ullamcorper vel sapien ac interdum. Praesent euismod luctus vestibulum. Aliquam ac urna et nunc ullamcorper vulputate sit amet nec ipsum. Duis porttitor mollis nisl a blandit. Ut eleifend ligula et pellentesque aliquam. Aliquam erat volutpat.

title here

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Pellentesque molestie vel magna blandit efficitur. Vestibulum consequat laoreet nibh quis viverra. Aenean et enim quis nulla faucibus molestie ut non odio. Etiam posuere quam ut nisl consectetur, in sagittis est euismod. Donec sit amet pellentesque est, nec tempus eros. Sed ut volutpat ex. Nullam sagittis ipsum massa, et tincidunt libero pretium nec. Sed turpis dolor, maximus sit amet dapibus non, egestas non erat. In eu tempor ipsum. Aliquam convallis neque vulputate hendrerit rutrum. Nam porta nulla ut lorem facilisis, vel tincidunt quam sodales. Integer mi velit, semper vel justo vitae, venenatis placerat massa. Nullam condimentum a felis in scelerisque.

Morbi vitae lobortis metus. Vestibulum ipsum augue, congue in blandit et, ornare vitae dui. Aenean sollicitudin libero id nibh posuere, sed iaculis ex dictum. Morbi posuere commodo diam, nec molestie sapien volutpat eget. Proin molestie finibus eros ac posuere. Ut ullamcorper vel sapien ac interdum. Praesent euismod luctus vestibulum. Aliquam ac urna et nunc ullamcorper vulputate sit amet nec ipsum. Duis porttitor mollis nisl a blandit. Ut eleifend ligula et pellentesque aliquam. Aliquam erat volutpat.

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

Gao · Jul 8, 2023

cw for poverty mentions
click!

船井蓮

THE KLEPTO.

Full Name

Funai Ren

Nicknames

Just Ren

Gender

He/Him

age

Twenty-Four

JOB

VARIED PAWNBROKER

DOB

OCTOBER 28TH
.
.
.
.

I CAN'T MANSPLAIN MANIPULATE MANWHORE MY WAY OUT OF THIS.

appearance

height

5'10"
(177cm)

weight

185lbs (84kg)

hair c.

Dark Brown

eye c.

Dark brown

Hair

Splayed loose like a cat o’ nine tails, leather black and insidious as they come; Ren’s hair heeds not for the decree of organisation. Garnished androgyny coats shoulders to fringe ribs, and those with an appeal to touch will be met with a curt slap on the hand and a warning of, paws off.

Eyes

Molten amber beneath the sun, irises don a shade of Cimmerian ink. Almost impenetrable by light, there is a quality of ravine-deep opia to his stare: invasive and impassive. Oil pools emulate that which glitters in his grasp, but the lack of any complex thought behind those lashes is a short-lived secret.

Build

Sturdier than height first suggests, Ren is broad shouldered, stocky, yet cuts a lean figure. Regrettably appears taller from a distance. Height is a mindset, he encapsulates this.

Scars

Consequences of childhood delight and trying to pat something he shouldn’t: Grandmother's cruel Bichon Frise located an ankle and delivered the blow.

A bottle of liquor as brutal collateral for a mouthy remark. Blood tasting lager, the lip scar stands testament to combative history.
X

Modifications

None, but after a few martinis he has a habit of asking for earrings. As of yet, people have been wise not to fulfil his intoxicated requests.

Distinguishing

Cutting a silhouette of scrappy ink, disavowing gaze is as icy as northern wind. A natural expression that strips warmth and emits short-tempered disinterest, strangers are prone to deducting he must be an immoral ruffian. Appears threatening, is usually harmless.

Androgynous attributes often provoke whispers of tall woman or feminine man? These situations are settled by the blunt approach of lifting his shirt to flash his chest at them. He lacks rational thinking.

Face-claim

90's Atsushi Sakurai

personality

Traits

Greedy, brash, dishonest, demanding, victimizing, rowdy, scrappy, noncommittal, melodramatic, pedantic, bold, determined, excitable, materialistic, foodie, plucky, spontaneous, charming, giving, sacrificial & independent.

In Detail

Ugly intentions dressed in pretty hues and spun in a tango of take, take, take, Ren lives in a love language borne of deception and magpie fascination. Searing the flesh of hands and burning salty blemish into tongue, greed with no satiation.

But desire is a slow strain of decay. Wants sharing the same mantelpiece as needs, belonging together like cast rings of old lovers. Nothing distinguishes the two when of poor origin. Anything wanted was a need, and as such, indulgence was ill-fated sin. Lowered into a half-animal state, gross rapacity spools from fingers in fulfilment of materialistic appetite. His hunger has always been a taking, eating for the abyss of absence. Dormant in the regolith of bones like cold kerosene waiting for flintlock ignition, Ren is still to find out how to stave this gluttony.

For compensation he’ll be anything for anyone. Mild fisted demure or a foul-mouthed tempest; profit is his father, and Ren is loyal in honouring him daily.

Scorched by carmine scrape and watercolour bruise, injury surprises nobody, paints him as an instigator poking bears and receiving a well-deserved mauling in return. Hosting a temper that is no secret, Ren; 蓮 Water Lily, is carved not from lotus petal flesh but something rough-hewn and carnivorous. A nervous dog turned rabid with a nettle-lined heart, anger proves to be self-imposed medication for hurt, forgetting that survival is no longer surging forward on instinct or fear, not an incising hunger unable to be cinched; that living is no longer desperation or clawing hands through bins.

This childhood seeps habit in distilled dregs, incapable of lying dormant.

Family blueprint leaking salience, he’s all but resigned himself to tradition: a mother's trust issues and father's fear of commitment that sink to arctic marrow depths. Intimacy is frightening, sentimentality is a weakness, and affection is an iron shackle shaped for the thick of the throat; an attractive leash with only so much to give before it chokes. Plagued by fear of being owned, by god, career, partner or place, by anyone or anything but himself, Ren has only ever wanted to bite down hard on anything offered to his hothouse mouth. No hand, not even those that feed him, are safe from his wilderness.

He has curled himself to the shape of people he once knew, pieces of them he carries in his voice, his mannerisms, humour. The need to imbue fractures with others was to acknowledge there were absences, but it was his stubbornness speaking, perhaps pride, that thought he was above needing anyone at all.

Pulled by an undercurrent of risk, speech and action are all too easy in lapsing into disaster. Impulsive, he’ll take what is given and take what he can steal. Red-flag arrows bitten between teeth, its usage to ward off predators or bait in prey are uncertain— even to himself— for there is charm to his antics, gestures and nicknames that err on affection. Sauternes sweetness uncharacteristic for a man of his own self-interest, whimsical playfulness blurs the dissection of fact or fiction.

In that denial lies the unspoken testament to his gravitation for company; a matching phone charm, a tupperware of nefarious cooking, a peeled fruit placed into hand. Someone who desires intimacy plagued not with history or labels, only to have a place to melt when tired of being cold— if just for a moment. Known to crack and crawl away from warmth when attachment grows molasses and sticks tar to skin, he dares not be viewed as a trinket, save relationships are left as nothing more than scoured veins.

An insecure narcissist who cares not for politesse daggers, a brash yet smooth-talking stray who collects blood in palm by biting moons from nervous fingernails, it’s a paradox of needing unconditional loyalty yet unequivocal freedom that becomes his fatal, fearful garotte.

Habits

Fixation on nails when nervous. Digging into palm, tapping, picking or chewing at the skin around them.

Starting fights he can't win, then pulling a power move of calling them a coward while running away.

Holding everyday items like a weapon. Mildly threatening for absolutely no reason.

Too superstitious. Nervous of the number four. It’s the death number.

Skills

Addition & subtraction. Gemology. Hotwiring old vehicles. ~~Stealing~~. Being disarming in conversation. Charming in a "villain's incapable henchman" type way where you know he's up to no good but he's still somehow likeable.

Fears

Drowning, horror films, clowns, happy people, ghosts, demons, dead things, unlucky numbers, mimes, dying, needles, black magic, children, anything relatively creepy.

likes

Money, hot chocolate, bubble-baths, glitter pens, animals, sunlight, phone-charms, milk-pudding, jewellery, naps, martinis, food, markets, heights, cooking shows, compliments, bugs, cars, driving, homemade things.

dislikes

Crowds, horror films, blue, liars, apologising, being cold, rain, books, cleaning, deep water, Halloween, commitment, pretentious words, wealthy people, blondes, Elvis (he's scary).

history

VOL. ONE: BEREAVE

Created down at the heel, deprivation raised him.

Rat-nest hair and barefooted, wounds of poverty left a muggy smear of need. Household artwork of stains and holes embellished in walls; crooked peeling of wallpaper akin to crêpe skin. When monsters in the dark are black mould sticking soft, breathing wet to corners of the room, music the tendering of men’s shoes— devilled hooves, sneaking across floorboards to a door splashed in dawn light, one learns not to value art in the world.

Narrow-eyed and headstrong, hacking asthma spattered with slush, lips slicked fire and ice, poverty spoke of misery. Nibbling like a flea, rice mashed in watered down tuna cajoled into a fighting mouth by mother's determined hand.

A matriarch like a film star beauty, rouge lipped and stashing prison letters in the bottom of her makeup case; Ren's father spoke from behind a partition of manganese steel bars, written words she’d pore over like an expanse of gold after downing butter-yellow highballs. Cold-eyed Scheherazade with nothing tender for her part-time boyfriends: love was an ingredient, weak and devourable.

Picking hair from meat dropped on the living room floor, cutting mould from stale bread, survival and small delights felt only in shame. Longing for vinegary mint dousing Easter lamb, spiced rice and grapefruit ice instead of bone froth and animal remnant, he takes crumpled bills and smoothes them into tidy stacks, cleansing them of history in preparation for a future. Goose-down bed, propped on a pillow with Sencha tea and an ivory bowl of apricot fruit. Owner of a chateau, dreams can become cancerous in their vividness. Invading every inch in an ache of conquest, little conqueror fascinated by jewellery noosed to the bend of swan-like necks, hands prying at anything that gleamed.

A school of forty names, what do you want to be when you’re older?

Rich.

Zealous, Ren would burn himself fleshless and skeletal to keep coals alight. Brought to his knees for what he wants, boasting accolades of bruised knuckles and split lips so long as victory comes morning like new sacrament. Driven to fever-point madness, unwavering determination is ingrained in his very being.

Painfully rich.

VOL. TWO: SUSTAIN

Vermin tripping over crumpled bodies of laundry, blunt scissors hacking ink shocks of hair to the kitchen floor; trials of high-school spent speaking the universal language of Go Away and hiding behind classrooms to thumb a knife under tangerine skin.

Having a creature of habit for a son, the well-rehearsed play would repeat with every man who’d made their way into his mother’s life; step-dads never found credence with an intemperate Ren. He remembers the first, in a house coated with sepia light and stewing in smokey film. Held by hollow walls and draft swept floorboards, sickness would seep from the door frame to stoke the sting of a replacement father.

He asks his mom to leave them.

She says no.

By the third, he knew this phenomenon. Grew tired of its pattern, allocating scraps of fondness in inevitable disappointment only to watch them walk out the door months later. Reared on detachment, nurtured by discomfort, cells swarmed bitter with venom of acedia.

It sat with him quietly, most days, the resentment he’d tend like a well-fed animal.

It sat with him loudly, the day he packed his things and left home for the first time.

Fresh beginnings became the only way to wrap hands around his heart and breathe new life into it.

He had never been good at poring over textbooks or working shifts nine till five. Hegemony never bode well for those that value freedom, a burn that Icarus and his crude waxen wings would find familiar.

But unlike son of Daedalus, Ren chose to forsake light and warmth for the price of faraway travels. Strange, how uncomfortable he grew with happiness, fearing the slow decay a stable job or relationship could— no, would invoke. He began to brace for a pull of that phantom cord, the leash taut at throat, or a drip of hot wax down his arm in caution; he'd grown too familiar with domesticity and sun-hot skin.

Amid new tension borne of impatient stagnancy, it would begin small. An itch that something wasn’t quite right; a stranger to the oregano leaves he planted during spring on his kitchen window, strained cups of sencha tea and bakery bread left cold on porcelain dishes, milk of speech sour in his mouth. He was a stranger in his own household. An incurable disease, a total aberration.

Small issues burrowed like worms into rotting woodwork until taking flight devoured daily thought. It was only a matter of time before the magpie collected its treasures in hook and beak, snapped at hands that reached, and departed for samsara.

There was medicine in burying himself six-feet underground, hair saturated from untimely weather as the subway train rattled over rodents and littered trash. Wet eyes conflicted with fingers deleting a eulogy of contacts; reincarnation did not come cheap, and it was easier to disappear without call or explanation. He is a ghost of abandoned connections, haunted by missed calls and angry voicemails never to be played. Known to leave a violent meteor trail of strife and massacred relationships, Ren is making yet another effort to settle and stay in line.

But there’s a natural instinct to cowardly flee from fallout of his own creation, or the fear of leaving claw marks in everything good he has ever touched.

VOL. THREE: NOW

Even now, grown, feral things find places to rest; taut, smoke-strewn apartment buildings. Cesspool of despair, tenants marred with loss and needle-point hobbies. An unholy Eden of the damned that dangles unattainable happiness over the gaping mouths of starving livestock.

Each morning he’d wrestle up the vertical slide window to climb out onto the fire escape; a beggar’s balcony to exhume smoke and lock eyes with a squirrel perched on a dumpster lip. There’d been no point pretending to dodge nostalgia, seeing those above when living in the silt of the food-chain. Looking up with obsidian, watching an unhinged deity flare glutton lungs like black dahlia. Pitied hand would toss a slice of multigrain bread over the railing and watch it scramble to pick from the damp pavement.

Survival was the deadliest inspiration, epicentre of desire.

Perched like a demigod of thieves, both amusing and recalcitrant is the pawnbroker’s bargaining, steeped with charm usually estranged from a store such as this, Ren leaves visitors with an aftertaste they can’t quite define.

Enigmatic does he laze himself, willow spine slumped in chair with shoes kicked up on the counter. Features carved by red neon signage, he watches like a tabby fascinated by morning songbird, the type to return in the maw of teeth with their necks twisted come the dip of sun beneath basin sky. Dabbles in the regular, runaway teens trying to scrape a bus fare together with trinkets and baubles, an addict pawning a wedding ring that he swears he’ll buy back next week, a single mother with a bad credit score needing grocery funds.

But things can disappear to and from with such ease in a store like this, and loans aren’t all that passes through Ren’s hands.

His curiosity is subtle, ludic and feather-light for what items can weigh upon the counter. A paper bag of jewellery pilfered from whereabouts unknown, a bowie knife no doubt recently sheathed into the body of another, a barrelled instrument of murder, still smoking and coated with sanguine retribution.

Ren can strike a deal as easy as a match, extend his services a sentence past his job description; locksmithing, gemology, crime, disposal of property— he should know better than to touch, plays with the fire of it all anyway. Accepts a wad of bills stuffed into his pocket and shoos the visitor from his sight.

Jack of many trades, master of none, a multifaceted individual of quandary morals; rest assured customers are to be sweet talked and most likely scammed by this charmingly droll gemologist. He’ll buy the stolen necklaces without prying— granted authenticity passes his trained eye and he can undersell its value —dispose of a carmine knife or crowbar— if the price proves to be satisfactory for such taxing work (woe is him),— and might even pick open a safe or two— only after he’s promised half (yes, half) the payout. If there’s value to be found, this whimsical New Yorker will find a way.

Yet he remains uncertain whether to continue this path of opportunity, or seize what he can and burn it all down. He’d been nothing from the beginning, and even now as he catches ink pupils in decanter glass and polished diamond, there’s doubt if rusted iron can ever be minted in gold.

MISC

Headcanons

➢ Takes it personally when he can't just charm his way out of problems. Will flirt his way to success. If that doesn't work, bash their skull in with a mallet.

➢ His credible source is that he made it the fuck up.

➢ "I never did that." but he very much did that.

➢ Knows he’s a poor liar, so settles for giving half truths. The Majesty of Pedantics when it comes to withholding context or avoiding important details.

➢ Loves tacky phone charms. Has a collection, and may give some to friends so they can match.

➢ Calls everyone 'Toots' or a nickname influenced by their appearance or first interaction. Heavy Brooklyn accent which startles most.

➢ Part-time Vegetarian. Eats meat when nobody is around to catch him. He can have a little salami.

➢ Surprisingly good with kids once he gets over the “why the fuck is it staring at me” stage.

➢ Peels fruit for people he likes. Would be more wholesome if it wasn’t just him nudging an apple slice against someone’s mouth until they are forced to eat it. This is his love language please just eat the fuckign fruit.

➢ Seems dumb, but most of his knowledge is about really obscure things that never come up in conversation. Yes, he can recall every episode of the Great British Bake off. No, he cannot spell thesaurus. Yes, he can speak about the chemical composition and internal crystal structure of any gemstone. No, he doesn’t think salmonella is real.

➢ Has had so many jobs it’s bordering ridiculous. This noncommittal flaw, however, has given him surface level understanding in many different careers.

➢ “Would you like me if I was a bee” but genuinely offended if the answer is no. Repeats one week later with "what about if I was a slug".

➢ Can’t spell or write for shit. He can, however, add and subtract at creepy speeds. Nascar has nothing on his ability to count a stack of bills.

➢ Brought up in a cold house, asthma flare-ups aren't uncommon during winter.

➢ Accuse him of anything and he’ll say you’re gaslighting him. As of yet, this tactic hasn't proved useful against police.

➢ Can’t cook to save his life, but enjoys trying to make meals. Watches a lot of culinary shows which (unfortunately) inspire him.

➢ “Everyone be fucking QUIET my mom is calling ))):< !!” Will pause horrible bastard deeds just to answer his phone with the most deceitful, “hi mama♡” known to mankind.

➢ Watches horror films with a strategic hand over his eyes.

➢ Can cry on command, uses this to make people look bad. It is poorly executed.

➢ After alcohol he is a Karaoke king. Stand aside Mariah.

➢Has “your friend’s 8 year old brother who obviously has a crush on you” vibes cause he’s just kind of weird.

➢Completely unknown what kind of shit is gonna come out of his mouth. Will he be nice? Will he say the most downright atrocious thing you’ve ever heard? Will he offend your ancestors? Literal walking landmine.

Extra

Pinterest Board !!
Spotify Playlist !!

Heya [: ! The guy who hates you and wants you dead just got out of prison.

WELL PUT HIM BACK IN??

SIR????????

now playing...

GOLDEN BOY

BRYCE FOX
♡coded by uxie♡
cw for alluding to a hate crime in history

scroll

scroll

❝
Is it worth it?
To let love ruin you?

I think so.

HAYDEN

FRAZIER

full name

Hayden Frazier

AKA

Hayley, Dude, Bro

age

22

Gender

Closeted Fluid

Pronouns

They/He/She

Job

Hospital Janitor

THE THERAPIST

Foreign Air

01.

visage

H & W

5'11" (180cm) + 160lbs (72kg)

hair

Pine shadows splayed effervescent, Hayden bears a scion crown of delirium. Soft roils unkempt and pronged like halo, on special occasions they’re scrunched into curls with neem oil and shea butter, or tied back when feeling particularly virile. Woolly bangs remain to be the carnal aftermath of bathroom-barber impulse.

eyes

Topaz capped in caramel melt, their gaze is syrup sweet and equally as mellow. A gaze like pudding, all brown-sugar and zero nutritional value, there’s not much activity behind those glass panes.

Build

Toned yet lanky, their structure is of spindle limbs and graceless posture. Victim to conflict in how they feel towards their chassis, there are days where Hayden would like nothing more than to be a ship of Theseus, replace every segment with something new.

Distinguishing

This aimless shapeshifter ravages cosmetic and impulse alike, letting versions of themself live and die in tandem with their mood. Bleeding indigo in a concoction of blues and pinks, their wavering preference with gender expression is never stagnant, at least when away from others' eyes. There’s potent shame in it, being seen, having the courage to bend which way or that, and nowadays Hayden only feels safe to explore this in the safety of solitude.

Sacred geometry, Hayden’s features coalesce a median of ambiguous identity. A femme slathered in glitter-gel shadows and butter-yellow sundresses, a masc of band tees and shredded denim. In the safety of friends do they indulge these whims, yet in public they discard fashionable layers to stow away under the humiliation of baggy hoodies and cargos.

Face-claim

Mica Argañaraz

02.

psyche

They are the flagrant dawn, an heir of Helios dappled in gold leaf. Painted only ever in the gilt of halcyon kindness, to encapsulate Hayden is never words, but shades of colour, rich with vivacity painted by the people around them.

They are a home built of ossein roof and marrow walls, white spun and bleached from the wilderness to draw others in and shelter their skeletons. Pulling the drape from heavy shoulders to rest on the coathanger of Hayden’s arm, stow their grief on the mantlepiece of Hayden’s cranium, throw spiels of history into the hearth of Hayden’s chest to pool their rooms with warmth;

There is light about them, a firefly glow that bleeds onto others. They desire to slough friends of the cold and their worries, layer them in gloves and scarves when all they have is this offer of kindness.

And it is more curse than gift.

Negative details are glossed with irrelevant haze for the sake– the need, for romanticism. They’ll set fire to anything to keep others warm; vertebrae is wax to candle flame, and Hayden willingly bends and splinters to the needs of others. They lack backbone, shine towards the wounded, the sick and the broken, care for them still even if they become the very cause of their suffering, their crooked floor panels. They are a beacon swallowed by sea, tower scaffolding crumbling from sea rock to sea-brine if it means to be accepted.

Damage never outweighs reward. It rings stark, that they cannot abide being disliked. Unwanted emotions are charcoal, ground under mortar and pestle till reduced to black powder. With a little water they can be kneaded into inky dough, efface it’s hue of shadow and grainy malignancy until they have excorticated every drop of darkness.

And if one looks closely at this home, watches it for too long, sees it weather a storm and survive, they’ll notice the flickering. The edges that flutter like moth on lamp oil, a haemorrhage of color that weeps into the world around it, sapping vividity and light like a stuttering bulb. If they search the coldest corners of rooms and look beneath the hearth, they’ll find splinters of glass forgotten in nooks Hayden would rather forget.

Their bones have been creaking, the walls are peeling, spine rendered into the crude arch of a sagging foundation. Too distracted by dishing platters of a gracious host to take time for renovation, for a pause, it lives in them, a crevasse that eats.

It is no flame, but a hearth choked with a swarming nest of spiders. A chasm so deep no light can puncture its stygian depth. It has iced up what creative expression they once selfishly dwelled in, sealed away into an austere tundra they dare not venture into.

They are no home, just a driftwood tile trying to impersonate what they had broken from.

traits

Compassionate, comfortable, accepting, cheerful, gentle, conversational, procrastinating, dishonest, dense, stereotypical, disorganised, insecure, emotional, pushover and overcompensating.

habits

➢ Talking while chewing. Sorry. They just have lots to say.

➢ Showing people bugs who do not want to look at bugs.

➢ Keeps a pocket knife on them. Great for if they have to suddenly open a cardboard box. Not great when they have to explain it to others.

➢ Obnoxious personality changes when talking to gender representations. A masc? Hayden speaks about manly things like cars and sport. A femme? Makeup and pink smoothies! A non-conforming? Panic. Quick, discuss the taste of styrofoam.

likes

Fondue pots, the Minion films, contact sports, glitter eyeshadows, chicken potato chips, connect four, rock collecting, chewing gum, clothes, energy drinks, vending machines, micellar water, death metal, summer, roller skating.

dislikes

Gendered bathrooms, vinegar chips, heights, plucking eyebrows, clowns, cleaning, scarves, pushiness, flip flops, Depop girls, chocolate chips that are actually raisins, violence, going out at night.

fears

Heights, clowns, going outside at night, being disliked, rejection, being attacked.

03.

history

Is kindness learned or grown into? For the likes of Hayden, they inherited it.

Forged from a childhood without barbs, it is an origin of soft bed, warm bath, and the love of two present parents. Ambrosian memory without the plague of money issues or divorce, it gives their youth such a docile edge, a butter-soft beginning burrowed deep into the reserves of memory.

Crowned not by thorn or war, but summer nostalgia and the support of onlooking parents. When they’d shimmy into their father’s slacks, absurdly long on their gangly teenage frame and rolled the cuffs up their calves; when they’d slip into their mother’s dresses, loose on the pointy shoulders and blooming with uninhabited fabric; never to be met with animosity.

Provisions for understanding took explanation, but with time, the eccentricity and contentment of their child outweighed confusion. Variety melded to them seamlessly, gave them a feeling that transcended a need for translation. A glitter ghoul one day, a denim bruiser the next, it was soon to become an iceberg of hidden depth.

Hayden never had a reason to mourn this authenticity.

But it’s written to their very being, engraved into memory and trachea, a regret to saturate every breath. They can still recall asphalt, the neon glow and cadence of bars. A stumbling quartet of boots over grainy pavement, they spilled from clubs to street in a pour of laughter and interlocked arms. Flush with alcohol, skin of revulsion heat and night swelter respiration.

And they can recall how quiet they became, how their laughter soured to silence, curled in their throat like a dead thing. How hazard seeped from the dark, loitered in the corner of Hayden’s eye like a subtle pulse. A needling urgency, this living flesh biding its time.

And they can recall how the street is a coastline, a stretch of charcoal intermittently broken with tepid orange streetlights. Their menial safety, a cut of saffron only to thaw back into dark. Melting to an infected gash, a stomach churns with motion of a tempest as pace chases pavement.

There is glass shattered on asphalt, splintering in cataclysmic echo across cement. And although they cannot feel it, they can hear it in their blood. Pinching sinew like diluted ice shards, scratching inside veins like lodged wishbone. It is not only searing flesh that haunts this memory, but the directionless anger of a man they’d never met.

Call it by its name, hate, call it by another, freak, call it by its filth.

They are on the ground, an animal on all fours as they are gorged on loathing. There is space in their ribs to spare another blow, and they can still recall the smell of it, the rust and oxide, blooms of nearby trash bags. A toxin in trace amounts suppurates in the flesh, how long till it rots? Till it runs? Till one is cleaving their throat apart in streaks of copper and struggle for soundless gasps of clemency.

Their face is splitting. Sea strewn. It wasn’t raining, their face never dried, part of Hayden died on that street.

There is now a weary rim to their gaze, but no anger. Hosting a smile that no longer fits quite right, doesn’t move to completely fill the corner of their lips; it’s a night that has unravelled the ivory bindings with raw, red fingers, streaked away makeup to uncover the whelps beneath, blotting livid as red clay.

Alloy gold mangled by a wash of blood, they cower in denial, for it’s the only way they can bear to still exist. Sometimes their chest heaves, breath razed to staccato, a surge that ebbs as quick as it arrives, unable to shelter them from its truth, its filth.

Achilles never feared drowning in the river Styx, for he was created and calcified in the safety of its lapis womb. And despite baptising Hayden in pigment and artistry, it proved to not be god-gifted invulnerability.

04.

gallery

05.

connections

TBD

WIP

TBD

WIP

TBD

WIP

06.

miscellaneous

LINKS

I haven't done their Pinterest board or Spotify get away from me.

HEADCANONS

➢ Cut microbangs a few months ago and is still trying to grow them out.

➢ Puts a perfume on. Gets dysphoria. Has to shower it off.

➢ Doesn’t curse. Says “frick” and “crappoli”.

➢ Uses children’s shampoo bc why the fuck would they not want to smell like “Happy Apple”.

➢ If a waiter gets their order wrong they would rather die than correct them. Will eat the worst food ever if it means avoiding confrontation. Yes, this means they’ve eaten Ren’s cooking and hyped him up for it.

➢ Would apologise to a life-guard for inconveniencing them while being saved from dying.

➢ Let me do your skincare VS let me headbutt you to test how hard my skull is.

➢ Might have eaten Styrofoam before.

➢ Stare of the goat. Has no idea what is going on.

➢ Blurts out the wrong answers to things with full confidence.

➢ Airhead. Will talk for 3 hours. Quiet people do not deter Hayden's ability to chat.

➢ Laidback attitude can come across as dismissive of things. Some do not appreciate the lazy attitude or how comfortable they seem to get with others so quickly.

➢ Loves rocks. Very pretty. Round.

➢ Dumb and hungry. Thinks 12 and a dozen are different amounts.

➢ They are not flirty, they are just a little too friendly.

➢ Waking someone up at 3am to ask a strange obscure question from nowhere.

➢ A penguin is a fish.

♡coded by uxie♡

qunqun · Jul 9, 2023

click!

Jedidiah

the mother...

full name

Jedidiah

nickname.s

Jed, Madame Mantique, Rome, Valerie, Donnie,

age

27

d.o.b.

November 16th

ethnicity

Black American
.
.
.
.

I would not change it each time. Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I

appearance

height

5'11

weight

70 kg

hair c.

Black

eye c.

Blue

hair styling

Long black wire that twists and knots, often carefully combed, gelled, and straightened into varying different styles, though with a big affinity of those that are shaggy and wild. But always played with for different outlines and shadows. Wigs of varying sizes and colors also make their way through fashion, though always carefully color coordinated and never done without an expressed interest in a bigger picture.

build

Perhaps the only thing that points to a sex assigned at birth, corded muscle winds its way through strong bones. Speaking of a long history of manual labor, building their own haven for all of their children. If it isn't the oft gothic fashion or the strangely androgynous appearance that doesn't often fit into society, it's the bulk that usually wards those that intend to cause harm off.

style

A long fan of the emo and the goth, there's a general trend towards black leather and silver chains, meshed tops and the revealing of tattooed skin as pieces of art itself allowing for a careful chosen variety of textures. Sequined gowns and long silks of bright flashy colors often find their way in as well, but this is more for the sake of her brood rather than her personal fashion choices. They dress for aesthetic and display, rather than comfort, playing with an entire spectrum of clothing, and often varying towards both the masculine and feminine with a healthy taste for camp.

body mods.

Many tattoos up and down arms and torso, they are often displayed as a form of art as well but usually black, with very little shading. Left lobe is pierced.

faceclaim/voiceclaim

Brandon Jones (@jonzu)

personality

Flamboyant with a tendency towards the dramatic and the camp, Madame Mantique runs a truly excellent house. A drag performer, they have a dignity and a large presence which commands a room whenever they enter, and a strong ability to read and throw shade like no other. Though, nowadays, they have allowed to share the stage with those that they deem deserve it.

Those that have only met the larger-than-life personality of the Madame Mantique, however, would be aghast to realize that this is just a persona and nothing more.

Performance begs for the loud and the vibrant, the exuberant and the dramatic. It does not include the quiet. Dignity remains, though the tendency towards the introversion is more out of an understanding of people: interactions on the personal scale require much less energy than those on a braoder stage. As such, while the wild and the flamboyant tendencies exist, especially in settings that it is expected, there is more of a thoughtful mindfulness found with a fondness towards the macabre. Compassionate, but pragmatic, the mother of the house takes in those that have nowhere else to go if they don't rebuke her tenants or her own lifestyle. Respect and dignity must be given to those that are already within the circle in order to be accepted, but to those who have been rebuked by a society that doesn't accept them for the same practices, this can be a breath of fresh air.

virtues

Compassionate, Pragmatic, Thoughtful, Wise, Hardworking

vices

Reactive, Critical, Prideful, Distrustful, Superstitious

likes

Macabre, oddities, avant garde, fashion, theater, drama, spiders, clowns, jesters, vampires, occult, jewelry, makeup, music, large boots, leather, lace, mesh, black, chains, silver

dislikes

Nature, hiking, live birth, religion, minimalism, conventionality, fishing, almonds, police, law, capitalism, small towns, middle class middle aged white women

History

Smoke and Mirrors

Madame Mantique is an ancient title passed down from queen to queen, as the head of the house. She takes many under her wing that have nowhere else to go: transwomen, queer people of color, drag queens, and transmen. There, they are housed and fed as long as they respect her rules. If they request to live there permanently, then they must pay rent, and pigs are unwelcome to this tiny haven. But those who remain guests receive the full hospitality of a Southern grandmother that they may never have had, without the judgement that they may hold.

This latest incarnation of the mystical figure is no different, though she is here to bring the balls of the Bronx to LA. As such, she seems to have materialized from dust and despair out of a desperate need for guidance and motherhood, ever enigmatic with a knowing smile when people ask about her true origins. She will never tell, as what is the point in reflecting on the past when there is so much to do in the present? All that is important to know about her is her compassion and her patronage, isn't it?

Translucent Film

The mystical and the divine explanations are all well and just, but they are not truly accurate to the person behind the legends. Though, if asked, Jed would prefer that their own history go unanswered. Better to let the public whisper than privacy broken, after all.

The tale, though, is of a young person born in a rural town in Georgia.

Of said person quietly keeping closely guarded secrets for much of their life, until they were clawed out forcibly by neighbors and peers alike, adults and adolescents all jeering and taunting.

Of their parents, reputation in the town in tatters, throwing them to the wolves at the age of 14.

Of hitch hiking and begging their way up to New York City where they lived on the streets for a while.

Of eventually being taken in by a larger queer community and couch surfing their way into getting their GED, while being educated in the art of performance and fashion.

Of finally being allowed to dream of a life outside of abject misery and suffering.

And of leaving that safe, insular community in order to branch out in the wider world, following the dangling sparkling bit of hope to LA where they became who they are today.

Miscellaneous

HCs

- Scorpio Sun, Capricorn Moon, Leo Rising, Sagittarius Mercury, Capricorn Venus, Scorpio Mars
- Has 20 different names, Jedidiah is just the latest
- Owns a black cat that has void-like tendencies named Winthrop
- Prefers masculine in terms of partners
- Willing to fight a bitch over some shoes at a good price
- Refuses to sell out out of principle, unwilling to abandon their wards
- Very good at a lot of creative and practical things, terrible with technology
- Currently on a longstanding feud with the mayor: what has he done for the community?
- Has like... 10 parking tickets outstanding currently
- Likes wearing a lot of black until 1 day just wears pure red to shock people
- Polyamorous
- Do not expect them to be up and functional before 11, thank you
- Winning favors with them is easy: give them something suiting their tastes
- Would make a very good carpenter if not entrenched in the artistic community
- Hitting them gives the response of a blank stare and a "what are you doing. Knock it off."

now playing...

Gladiator

Jann
♡coded by uxie♡
TW: Sibling death, grief, suicidal ideation. Most concentrated in the Personality sections and the History sections
click!

Graham

the survivalist...

full name

Graham Flynn Byrne

nickname.s

Whore of the Moor

age

29

d.o.b.

May 3rd

ethnicity

Irish
.
.
.
.

You won't stay with me, I know, but you can have your way with me till you go

cuma

height

6'3

weight

97 kg

hair c.

Red

eye c.

Green

hair styling

Bright red, eye catching, and a curly fluffy halo that encircles a chiseled face, Graham has allowed his hair to grow completely wild. Kept at varying lengths depending on the last time of shearing, his natural hair color stands out in a crowd: exactly what he likes. Once a source of mockery, now becoming a prime factor of awe... and the occasional joke about soullessness that he often converts into a purring reminder of debauchery.

build

Broad and defined, long hours of physical manual labor alongside peacocking and preening of a man who also enjoys the gym, Graham has developed very strong muscles that act as an aid to his charade as a shallow whore. Carefully sculpted as to be as aesthetically pleasing as possible, his sunny mindless disposition aids in the creation of his veneer: a himbo who maybe thinks a bit too highly of himself. Yet despite flawless slightly tanned skin, there are the slightest remnants of freckling from his youth, having faded with time.

style

Surprisingly soft and worn, often wearing the work clothes, Graham flocks to warm weather, and when he cannot, he always dresses as warm as possible. As such, his wardrobe often shows a lot of skin - a whore to the very end. Preferential treatment is levied towards soft browns and greens, oftentimes not straying very far from the natural hues of flora. Though, sometimes, adorning himself with little glittery bits of silver: a cross, or some dog tags. Maybe a ring or two.

body mods.

A silent measure, there's a Roman numeral tattoo on his ankle.

faceclaim/voiceclaim

Nicholas Skidmore

carachtar

Vacancy between green eyes, not a glimmer of higher intelligence to be found amongst a seeming impulsive hedonism with very little regard for safety or lethality. A man of pleasures, with a reputation for spread legs and hastily discarded clothes amongst both sexes. And with a constant air of self-inflated ego, it becomes a mystery at how people are taken with what appears to be an airheaded musclebound playboy. Though, between innuendo and careless wordplay, there lays little glimmers of mischief and playfulness. Perhaps this is where the shallow find their pleasure, with a handsome face and a banter. But, it still does not account for those that aren't still being taken with him.

Darkness troubles the brow, a learned shame and failure that comes from having failed a believed life's purpose. Quietly, he wishes for the death which sometimes rears its ugly head; but in the now, he races towards dopamine and adrenaline, allowing that, a familial tendency towards the bottle - carefully straddling the line of alcoholic, and an unsteady and nomadic lifestyle to muffle the quiet assurity that his death is warranted and imminent. Perhaps someday, but his repentance must be completed before he can sink into peaceful oblivion.

Plunged into the beating red center, a rock solid dependability and sense of responsibility is at the core. Shockingly empathetic with a deep emotional intelligence, excellence is not found in smarmy charm and honeyed words but instead a simplistic kindness born from an innate sense of others emotions. This is the bedrock, and all else is built on top of it.

virtues

Dependable, Kind, Charismatic, Empathetic, Practical

vices

Broken, Melancholic, Hedonistic, Stubborn, Martyrical

rogha

Autumn, warmth, sunlight, spring, summer, animals, danger, adrenaline, flirting, people watching, drinking, alcohol, astronomy, poetry, writing, nature, fire, cuddling, calla lilies

col

Cities, enclosed spaces, storms, winter, cold, glass, steel, comfort, thinking, darkness, stagnancy, cars, math, blenders,

Scéal

Réamhrá

The young couple, ingenues unprepared for the harsh reality of parental affection. Conceived out of wedlock came twin flames. One mellow, responsible, and emotionally intuitive. The other brash, fiery, and stubborn. Mistaken and swapped around since birth, interchangeable identities from adolescent androgyny led to an inseparable bond. A cold and quiet paternal and maternal relationship respectively led to an increasingly insular unit within the familial circle.

Codependency aside, a penchant for mischief and a blatant disregard for the strict religious zeal pervading their school led to popularity underneath the disappointed stare of nuns and priests alike. Confusion between the twins persisted throughout this, all things considered, normal childhood. Though when children transformed to young adults was when sexuality was glanced. The uncomfortable realizations that neither were attracted to strictly what they were supposed to. A lifetime of trouble and rebellion cut short at the final snapping of authority upon their children: the declaration that they were to be separated, one sent to all-girls boarding, the other sent to military.

Arguments and fighting defused by the softer of the two, a suggestion that they break and take a walk through wooded backyard to cool off. That they come back and either run away together or argue their point stronger to their elders.

He returned, battered and broken, she was never found.

Buaicphointe

Sterility and silence broken by the beeping of machines as doctors mended Graham’s exhausted body back to health. A wrenched shoulder and a pulled hamstring all that he had saved for a terrifying vacancy in once lively green eyes. Police were brought in, interrogations levied, dogs sent out to recover the body. None were successful, and the guardians eventually intervened and called them off when hope was lost between the two of them.

Unprepared for the trials and tribulations of parenthood, there was even less preparation for tragedy. Cold punishment and distant affections ill suited for the reconstruction of a broken family. A formerly strict paternal figure withdrawing fully into borderline cruelty, and a formerly quiet mother retreating into silence. A once lively and warm household due to the intervention of rambunctious children now barren. Guilt ridden, the son began a spiral of self-destruction with no parental safety net to catch him when he fell. Friends abandoned this new morose character, teachers reprimanded him even stricter trying to keep his delinquency in check to no avail.

Finally, a kind yet disappointed touch referred him to observance of the people around the boy. The misery that he was inflicting on everyone — the continued grief that was being struggled through that he was exacerbating with his ill behavior. Instructions harshly whispered that if he couldn’t be supportive and happy, he could at least act like it. Layered and layered in this sense of responsibility, the effect was almost immediate. Seemingly gone was the turbulence, and replaced was a cheery veneer: the ill painted over by empty headed hedonism.

Réiteach

Intelligence whispers from behind a mask of stupidity. Two degrees achieved at incredibly prestigious university, whilst gaining an increasingly outlandish reputation for rendezvous with anyone willing to have him. A deep wanderlust, a call for the new in order to escape the ghosts of the past, only sated by the continual traveling. Unable to settle in a place for very long before the voices bay for his blood once more, nomadic lifestyle has wormed its way deep within his being.

As such, fanciful diplomas collect dust as an affinity for strong manual labor and a seeming communion with plants allows for a job as a high end landscaper and gardener… which is aided by the silent knowledge of his abilities to pleasure his clients through other means, both conventional and more… harsher fuckery.

Here is no exception. He only plans on staying for a month or two before abandoning once more.

éagsúil

HCs

- Taurus Sun, Capricorn Moon, Leo Rising, Leo Mercury, Pisces Venus, Leo Mars
- Gatorade is spicy to him
- Used to smoke but quit in university after attending 1 health course
- Three steps away from being a sugar baby
- Attended 1 formal high class party... No longer allowed to attend those
- In denial that he needs glasses
- 50/50 reputation on asshole and genuinely good guy
- Really likes submissive and breedable men, and women who can step on him
- He's tanned, he promises
- Struggles to do his 8 times tables

now playing...

Let's Fall in Love

FINNEAS
♡coded by uxie♡
Hey the history gets really dark. TW for SA, Child Abuse, Suicidal ideation, and homophobia. It's especially prevalent in the "Violence" section and onwards
click!

Aurelian

the chef...

full name

Aurelian Fiocchi

nickname.s

Ari (fuck off)

age

22

d.o.b.

August 5th

ethnicity

White American
.
.
.
.

Are you fucking kidding me

appearance

height

6'1

weight

98.5 kg

hair c.

Black

eye c.

Amber

hair styling

Harsh oiled wire shaved on both sides with a strong flip over his eyes, it really gives an interesting look alongside yellow stare. Carefully groomed and freshly shaved biweekly, he would never admit to actually being pretty good at hairdressing though.

build

A bit of a control freak by design, work outs and attempts to take personal control have led him to building a truly impressive physique of muscle. Lending well to his ultimate goal of intimidation, he's designed to lean into it as much as possible, though secretly he wonders if such pride over his physique has led him to lacking as many piercings and tattoos as he'd wish as he takes great enjoyment of his aesthetic as is.

style

The goal to make himself intimidating and villainous to the average gaze achieved through dark leathers and spikes, he blends biker and punk aesthetics. Silver chains, and dark clothes mixed with chunky rings. Snakes and crosses among his choices, his personal preferences created a distinct contrast with the pristine white professionalism he carries while at his restaurant.

body mods.

Aurelian has four tattoos that he's decorated his body with over the years. There's a right forearm tattoo that reads as "Pride" in flourished fonts. There is a woman's head with snake hair underneath his left bicep. There is a thorny vine with a rose on his left hip. There's also a tattoo on his right calf and it's just a red capital A. Silver studs adorn his body, two in each ear, a flat and a cartilege respectively alongside lobes giving a slightly asymmetrical appearance. A nipple piercing in the right is his own secret of debauchery.

faceclaim/voiceclaim

Florent Fauverge

personality

Blessed with an angelic appearance, impressions are immediately soured by an absolutely horrendous temperament. Curmudgeonly on good days, downright nasty on bad ones, Aurelian is not the type of person that makes friends easily. Or really, at all. Ridiculous statements haunt his every waking step "People would like you more if you smiled." And perhaps that is the point of it all.

Armor clad heavily upon his shoulders, he possess a deep seated rage and mistrust at all who have the misfortune of stepping in his way. At least, that's how he'd prefer people to think of him.In actuality, temper is more flared by incompetency and danger, not out of any sense of hatred or sadism, but more in a sense of improvement. This aggressive personality is intended to apply the correct amount of pressure in order for people to turn coal to diamond.

Except he has no fucking clue what the correct amount of pressure is. Seen mostly in a ruthlessly competitive streak, outside of the kitchen or the fight ring or the impromptu race track, Aurelian gets more mellow the longer people stick with him. Frosty prickles slowly melting away to a much more observably kind, good humored, practicing anger management person who does care a lot for the people that have won his loyalties.

Though admittance of these more virtuous traits is nigh impossible. Even more, true statements of earned affection.

virtues

Honest, Confident, Disciplined... um... Just?

vices

Short-tempered, Blunt, Arrogant, Promiscuous, Mean

likes

Aurelian really likes knives. He also likes maintenance and cleaning, because he likes the looks of things when they are spotless and clean. He enjoys cooking, and he enjoys boxing and MMA fights. He's also a fan of swords and motorcycles

dislikes

Aurelian hates mistakes. But more than he hates mistakes, he absolutely despises excuses. To make an excuse or to attribute failure to outside circumstance is one of the quickest ways to send Aurelian into a rage. But more than that he absolutely despises losing, and will keep fighting until he eventually wins.

History

Tension

Discarded in the trash almost at the moment of birth, first foggy memories come in and out. Being put into a foster home, sparkly and innocent: a newborn babe. Primary clarity strikes at the harsh slap of a hand from an elder adolescent. Words grated like nails as they choked him: "This is why nobody loves you."

A morose beginning creating a tumultuous character, the birth of rage at its very core. Helplessness and loneliness buried into his marrow as he fought to survive in deadly environment. Smaller and weaker than every other youth, passed by again and again by doe eyed kind adults. A sour expression slowly imprinted further and further into what would've been beauty as the doors would close, and the brutality would begin.

The genesis of a monster: adults no longer looking on in sad pity, striking the animal with belts and canes in an attempt to disperse the demon. But only throwing more fuel to the fire. At the age of 7, whispers amongst the children spoke of him: too furious to be adopted, too troublesome, too old now to pass as cherubic despite a growing beauty. Something wrong with him, childhood delinquency pulled tighter to shield shreds of innocence from anymore harm. He was removed from the orphanage, and sent further into the foster system.

Violence

Removed from the orphanage and taken to a foster home to tame the beast, hidden purple welts over his peers' faces foreboding as he was passed into their hands. Rebellion a normalcy within this home, lashing out at the other children in order to keep and hoard food and clothing given by mercurial hands.

Shattered glass and screaming: the echoed layers of repeated messages "Nobody cares for you." A learned mentality even as the ruthless streak became a barbarous nature. Fear ruled, as white knuckles over blackened throats choked and gagged him - soft threats making his blood run colder than the shouts and the thrown objects and the familiar crack of a belt. The knowing gleam in green eyes that pierced his soul more: somehow, she had known. Held down when a priest came to exorcise the demons out of him, his social worker saw the varying stages of violet that mottled his face and body.

He never saw them again.

The next houses, however, being no better than this one - a string of poor luck. Cries continuing to plague him "You're broken" "You're unlovable" "Nobody wants you." Deepening his perceived damnation down to his soul.

And the last one:

"You're so pretty" And it'd be a shame for it to go to such a waste.

Cold blooded terror met sunshine warmth when the social worker came to the latest foster house, cheerful statements of finally finding him a family to adopt him. A rich and prestigious one.

After all, what psychopath would take in a thirteen year old with a long history of violence, fundamentally subhuman?

Honeymoon

Damaged. Ultimately, maltreatment bred distrust and disgust, and when the perfectly pristine family took him in, they were ill-prepared for the rabid animal that they received. The obvious stated almost immediately: "This is not what we signed up for, we need to send him back."

The threat that would hang over his head for the rest of his youth.

The younger of his new brothers stepped forward when the parents refused association, and claimed him as his own with zero ulterior motive. Eventually, unearthing the human deep inside that had been wrapped in the armor of violence. An eager to please and desperate child starved of any kind of positive interaction.

Worms of manipulation sowed quietly as dirt and stone were brushed aside: Aurelian devoted himself to his new "father" never quite losing a competitive streak in trying to outdo him, but always hanging off his every compliment and word. Won over ultimately with strawberry ice cream and a warm hand raising his head upwards to a light where others shoved him deep into the mud. Clean cottens and soft mattresses forcing him to slowly acclimate to this newer lifestyle of dulcet tones, prying open a crypt of an inner world that nobody else had ever been privy to.

But the quiet whispers still hissing even as he was held through chronic nightmares: "You are not enough."

The only intensity shining behind normally kind eyes at the mention of a boy who'd blushed at him when Aurelian had given him a rare smile, told in a harsh whisper "That is not something that you do, because that is evil."

You are evil. But he doesn't know it yet, and he can never know.

Aurelian corralled the wickedness and placed it deep inside of his heart where it would fester and rot. But he graduated high school with honors, and enrolled immediately into culinary school, finding a deep calling in being able to create for once, instead of destroy. The feeling of having complete control: an outlet for cutting flesh and playing with fire without being labelled psychopathic.

Once graduating culinary school, he proceeded to travel the world, learning how other cultures cooked after gaining a deep appreciation for French cuisine. A taste for the strange and unusual developed from a genuine love of the art and the cultural exchange that so easily came from food. The farther he went from home, the more the vile slowly leaked from him. The iron grip upon it loosening.

Repeat

Shock and horror at proclivities unbefitting of their family, and an immediate cast outwards, reason finally given to an impulse waiting to be fulfilled at first failure. A look to the protector: Dante, who wouldn't meet his eyes as he was thrown back into the trash where he belonged. The golden dream coming to a screeching halt.

A friend from his days of running away finding him maybe staring a little bit too long at one of his knives, imagining the ease it would be to slice into flesh and finally kill the monster that brought ruination to the people around him, as he walked the streets alone once more. A smile that was too knowing at what had happened, one that he would've been angry at, had the last small embers of hope he'd carried within him not just been stomped out.

She held him when he finally shattered into millions of shards, the pressure finally bursting, knees buckling as he sobbed.

A gap spoke in his memory, waking up next to her in bed still fully clothed and clinging to her like a newborn baby to any kind of warmth that could've been left over for such a rotten demon as him.

She brushed his hair as his hands shook and he struggled through breathing, through the idea of having to leave her room. Feeding him as he relearned how to be completely alone again, bereft of support and love that while conditional was probably the only thing that something like him would ever be worthy of receiving.

He couldn't even be mad when he finally left her room after three days, and some... person showed him a rat that had been named after him.

It was really fucking funny, because they didn't even realize how right they were.

Miscellaneous

HCs

- Leo Sun, Virgo Moon, Aries Rising, Aries Mercury, Virgo Venus, Aries Mars
- Technologically incompetent
- A very good dancer, but you could not pay him to do it. Drunken club genius
- Animals do not like him at all whatsoever
- Constantly enraged by something, but whether or not it's you is varied
- Extremely polite to young children. The only people who get spared from his anger
- Loose contact with his adopted older brother ONLY
- Has been kin assigned Patrick Bateman, did not understand a single word of that sentence
- For some reason, MMA fighting seems to become more popular whenever he comes to town... He doesn't think about why this might be
- Psychics and fortune tellers can literally send him into rage with very little effort
- Cooks for the Disaster Gay Gang every Saturday, still repaying Jed for crashing at their place

now playing...

... And Justice For All

Metallica
♡coded by uxie♡
click!

Ilya

the doctor...

full name

Ilya M. Jovanović

nickname.s

N/A

age

27

d.o.b.

August 28

ethnicity

Russian-American
.
.
.
.

Cross my heart till the skies turn red in the sunrise

Appearance

height

6'1

weight

75 kg

hair c.

Red

eye c.

Brown

hair styling

Dulled out embers, at one point it had been vibrant, but nowadays wavy locks fall relatively flat and lifeless. Usually gelled out of his eyes and normally carefully professional despite his other signs of fatigue.

build

Lanky and thin, there's a general strength to his form that belies his true fragility. Muscle and bone overcrowding fat at every turn, creating an almost rabid appearance. Signs of exhaustion weigh heavily upon shoulders and eyes.

style

Absolutely obsessed with work, very few times will Ilya ever be seen outside of his normal scrubs. Depressingly enough, sleep at the hospital is not above his normal methods of work - the ability to collapse for thirty minutes and then be up for another 4 often terrifying his peers. Outside of work, he normally dresses with soft plaids and black jeans, generally preferring darker palettes of reds and blacks, with a heavy emphasis on cover and comfort.

body mods.

Whispers of the past reflected on his current face. A dark swirls of ink on the inside of his forearm as a result of celebratory revelry, a caduceus.

faceclaim/voiceclaim

Nick Gehlfuss

persona

Warm kindness radiates from the doctor, gentle hands and a soft voice allowing for an impeccable bedside manner. Steady sureness and general self-confidence fabricating an incredible medical professional. Ilya was born to be in the healthcare industry, understanding and empathetic, altruism courses through his veins and his optimistic humanism focuses a need to do right by the world.

However, even bedrock will erode away given enough pressure and time. Three years since entering the field, and Ilya has been made firsthand witness to death and despair at every turn. Caring for each patient has corroded at his positivity, and he finds himself becoming increasingly numb and cynical to the human condition. Long shifts blurred into one another, a vicious inability to rest at night, and scraping to get by with mounting debt and criminally low wages has crushed every other part of his soul that wasn't the burning need to help others.

Lacking the foresight to realize that his profession would necessitate confronting suffering at every which way, his honest well-meaning nature is at odds with the agony of hopelessness. Observations of suffering inflict pain onto a gentle soul, causing it to harden bittered. Altruism is in conflict with a growing cynicism, and he both fears and awaits the day that he won't return home in tears at the passing of his patients upon his table.

virtues

Kind, Patient, Honest, Intelligent, Diligent

vices

Exhausted, Cynical, Depressed, Anxious, Indifferent

Likes

Flowers, Dark chocolate, Trees, Birds, Running water, Stones, Meditation, Puppies, Hearts, Bones, Skulls, Math, Chemistry, Anatomy, Cement,

Dislikes

Horror movie protagonists, Beans, Itchy clothes, Airplanes, Roller coasters, Florescent lights, Linoleum, Death

History

Childhood

The firstborn of Russian immigrants, they fled their home country during the breakdown of the Soviet Union. As such, he was raised with a firm hand, though always loved. He has many many siblings, and most of his childhood was spent caring for them. Never the richest, back when it mattered he was bullied lightly.

However, when self-awareness of puberty set in, this eventually faded away and his kind good-natured demeanor won him smatterings of friends. Never particularly in the "it" crowd, but not completely abandoned, he graduated high school with a 4.0 GPA, on the varsity basketball team, and in honors programs. Perfectly set up for a life of success.

Young Adults

His parents loved him dearly, but they were incredibly busy. Many children left, and taking care of his nieces and nephews, Ilya has never been one to focus on himself all that much.

Somehow not burnt out from all of this childcare, it seemed natural to him to go into the medical profession - so he majored in biology pre-med.

A workaholic and not particularly inclined to return to the chaos of his childhood home, he graduated undergrad within three years and immediately went to med school. Ilya wasn't top of his class, but he was always pretty high in rankings. A smart kid.

Altruistic to his core, he wanted to go where he was going to be needed the most: emergency medicine, especially in impoverished areas. That is when he decided to go to Skid Row.

Professional Life

Life sucked. He's a tired burnt out adult. He doesn't want to become bitter but is realizing that might be the only way to stay sane. It sucks.

Miscellaneous

HCs

- Virgo Sun, Scorpio Moon, Libra Rising, Virgo Mercury, Cancer Venus, Scorpio Mars

- To ever see him genuinely rage, put on a horror movie where the protagonists are stupid. Popcorn is thrown, shouting is imminent.

- Have you ever heard someone use the atria of the heart to flirt with someone? No? What about the colon? Well, you will now!

- Sleeps anywhere, sometimes in the break room, sometimes in a closet, sometimes on the floor

- Hates pumpkin spice and beans, autumnal food is not at all something that he enjoys.

- Death Cab for Cutie covers on Soundcloud, but that's just something he does for fun

- Parents are in contact but busy, he doesn't really call home. Doesn't want to disappoint them.

- Secret guilty pleasure is emo edgy music

- Pounds black coffees in order to keep the energy up

- Big fan of kittens, puppies, and babies. Loves soft things and meditating

now playing...

Terrible Things

Brick + Mortar
♡coded by uxie♡

CuChulainn · Jul 10, 2023

Name: Colm Healy [Cull-um Hee-Lee]
Age: 30
Nationality: Irish
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Hetero

Affiliations:
Former member of a dissident Irish paramilitary group

Occupation:
Colm is the owner of an Irish pub in the centre of Skid Row. "Officially" the pub is a neutral spot for the gangs and local rogues in the area. Colm demands all weapons are left with the heavily armed security at the door and life inside the pub is largely safe. Unofficially however Colm uses this neutral zone so members of rival gangs can meet, talk, and negotiate temporary deals amongst each other. In return for a small commission of course. The money made in these deals is spent fortifying the bar and running his own small, but well equipped paramilitary unit to keep his mini-fiefdom safe

Personality:
For business reasons Colm tries to avoid taking any sides in gang related feuds or dealings. He will facilitate talks and deals as an honest broker and makes very good money from doing so. Although his bar is largely a front for this main business Colm enjoys running a bar and getting to know the locals. For all his misgivings and backroom deals Colm is passionate about enforcing the zone of neutrality in his bar.

He will make friends across all gang lines and has a heavy streak of paternalism in his dealings. He will let younger, underage members of the community come into his bar to provide a safe haven for them when times are tough, and look out for them even outside his grounds.

Of course his softer side is backed up by a ruthlessness that allows his bar to operate the way it does. Any breaking of the rules of the bar will be met with a ferocious punishment, either through his own small paramilitary units, or by working with other groups to punish those who break his rules. The neutral ground works through heavy enforcement and collective agreement. When someone breaks those rules the punishment must be unequivocal.

Ontop of it all Colm is a man of hedonism, enjoying the finer things in life he feeds his addictions and vices and enjoys life's bounty.

History:
Colm was born in Derry, Northern Ireland. A fierce Irish nationalist he was sucked into the dissident paramilitary groups at a young age. Growing up in a desperately poor neighbourhood left him little other choice. At 20 he was already running drugs and guns across the border and distributing them to groups in Derry and Belfast. That was until he was caught by the PSNI. He was sentenced to 20 years in HM Prison Maghaberry.

Life inside was tough, the prison was a "rundown shithole". The guards were as corrupt as the men inside, and the men inside were the worst life had to offer. For the first time Colm questioned the diehard beliefs that got him here, and for two years he seriously began to repent and reform. That was until the breakout occurred. Apart from himself, 6 other members of dissident group were locked inside, and so, the leaders on the outside planned an escape.

For the guards on duty that night, they expected nothing other than a usual night. Until the bomb went off. Hidden in routine deliveries Colm and the six other men had discreetly assembled a bomb over the course of two months. When it was ready they let it loose. The bomb went off in the east wing laundry room, blowing a huge hole in the side of the building. While the prison guards reacted the seven men, including Colm were led outside by a group of guards that had been paid off. It was that easy.

Of course he could no longer stay in Northern Ireland so he was quietly moved out onboard a fishing trawler to Southern Spain. From here he made his way to North Africa and eventually across the Atlantic to California through Mexico.

His new job was to source more weapons from the locals of LA and organise for them to be sent back to Derry. It was all going well until three years ago when the leadership of his group in Northern Ireland were all arrested in a sting operation and the group disbanded. His identity remained protected.

That was the day Colm opened his bar, and began his new project.

Realistic or Modern Street Life | Character Sheets

Qwertycakes

Did you have a brain tumor for breakfast?

tamarapasek

Senior Member

neverbackdown

To live would be an awfully big adventure

LooneyLani

a mess

LooneyLani

a mess

Gao

[sad jester jingle noises]

qunqun

Give me your herbs, worm.

CuChulainn

Irish Guy writing Irish People