One Thousand Club
Name: Oliver Whimsy
Oliver has been aptly dubbed “the campus weirdo”. He is uncomfortable around many people, but he still does his best to be social. He is open to making new friends, very kind and respectful, if a bit shy. He can babble on for hours about cryptids, flowers, cooking, or anything else he’s obsessed with. He’s always eager to share his knowledge with other people, but he understands that most don’t want to listen.
(Will be revealed in rp
Vanilla almond milk
Any shade of red
Record Player by Daisy the Great & AJR
The Rest of Us Just Live Here by Patrick Ness
If I Had Wings
Summary of Mr. Whimsy:
“Hi, I’m weird. Or at least, that’s what everyone tells me. I’d like to think I have a lot of friends...or at least a decent amount...but I know that no one really likes me. I know.”
Oliver Whimsy, campus weirdo. Likes to pick up rocks, broken bits of colored glass, and anything else that happens to be laying around. He’s a philosophy major, and a major clutz. Many a time has he slipped down the stairs, fallen out of his chair, etcetera etcetera, so on and so forth. Oliver Whimsy, and what everyone else thinks of him.
He doesn’t let it bother him though. He just skips on by with a smile, a wave, ignoring everyone around him except for the teachers. And his wonderful girlfriend.
“I’m breaking up with you.”
Oliver looked up from his third scrapbook of the week.
Spencer sits down across from him, her enchanting hazel eyes staring into his soul. “It’s not me, it’s you. You’re always in your own head, thinking of some dangerous new thing to do. Oliver, last week you came home with a piece of rebar in your stomach!”
“But I lived.” he tried to reason with her.
“But you could have died! And I can’t deal with a relationship where I think my partner isn’t coming home!” her hands slammed on the table and he flinched. He always flinches. “We’re done, Oliver. I packed my stuff already.” she walks to the door, her three pink suitcases filled to the brim.
So he takes a deep breath, stands up from the table, and gives her a hug.
“Good luck, Spence. I hope Killian treats you well.”
Oliver took the slap in the face as a final goodbye. He’d be fine without her, he’s had tough breakups before. And thirty minutes later he was sitting on his couch, eating a bowl of vegan ice cream, yelling at the rom-com on his TV.
“Mr. Darcy doesn’t deserve you!” he screeched, taking another spoonful of ice cream. “Just leave him Jane! He’s a worthless piece of trash, probably likes another girl anyway!” and with a soft sniffle, he turned off the TV.
He went to his bed, now cold and lonely, and fell asleep.
His life was hard, but so was everyone else’s. He’d get over it.