BeastofDestiny

Our Evil Ways

Arnold Myers

High noon with a hot sun, stretch of open road with practically zero cover, nearly fifty people in a less than fifty foot radius, if there wasn’t a more literal term for, “out of the frying pan…” than Arnold sure as hell couldn’t think of one. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Arnold had to contemplate his more recent decision making. How long had it been since he joined? Maybe a little over a week now? The days seemed to blur together, and between the heat and lack of water, the days only seemed to have melded moreso. Even so, he’d been through a hell of a lot before this, he was just more well supplied. Watching people screaming as they were being eaten, cops and military were practically ineffective in the long run, bases being overrun by the sheer number of ’them’. It was only a matter of time before the people around him were taken, or even he was taken, hell at this point everyone in this party was just biding their time.

Arnold sighed rather frustratingly, a hand grazing over his torque wrench gently carried in the makeshift sheath that was a belt loop, before breathing deeply. ’Get a hold of yourself, he thought, ’sure shit has hit the fan, but you can make it through this, a day at a time.’ Though he really wanted to believe that, this sorry lot of pack scavengers wasn’t going to last long unless they actually banded together and formed a stronghold somewhere. The city wasn’t a viable option, too many of them already had a hold of it, the forest wasn’t a great option either, plenty of game, but there were too many blind spots amongst the foliage that they couldn’t afford the ambush. Nearly a year ago, Arnold wouldn’t of thought of this crap, he’d be working on a Ford Mustang or a Ducatti or some kind of fuckin’ car and just zone out. Now, he was literally planning on what kind of forward base a group of survivors could call their home, something they could build, fortify and protect, even with half of the assclowns that were around. Sure most of them were ‘troubled’, but if it was either food and water vs. the wasteland, they’d turn around and settle in line.

It wasn’t until the group stopped and he nearly ran into the big muscle head of the group, Don? That he realized that Freddie was speaking. A trip to Costco? That seemed like a fruitless endeavor...however...a lightbulb went off in his head. ”Food and water might already be gone, but hopefully there’s other useful stuff that no one would even think about.” In his mind Arnold was already thinking of the possibilities of different tools that could be available as well as scrap that could be converted into other items. ”Clothing for one would be a good start,” not only was it flammable, but to be fair, everyone was as dirty as..well a mechanic, and fresh clothing could be a useful morale boost, since hot water was nowhere to be found. ”Any camping or travel gear we can find can store more items for later scavenging, tools and scrap are useful too.” For the first time in a while, Arnold felt excited, even forgetting about the current water and food situation. Hand gripped tightly around his ‘club’ he smirked at the hulk before him before turning towards Freddie, ”I’m willing to go with anyone else who wants to, I can help spot out the stuff we need in the long run.”

---

Donald “Don” Ackerson

Six months and ten days since it nearly all started, even now he could still remember Freddie Jones words that they needed to get out before Don nodded assuringly, getting as many people out of the bar alive. He wasn’t a bodyguard, he wasn’t supposed to protect people with his life, he was a bouncer, someone who roughed someone up when they were being too rowdy, touchy, or plain old creepy. Most days he thought about Day Z, thought about how most of the patrons...didn’t make it, in a way it haunted him, it haunted the oath he swore by and broke at the same time. At the end of the day though, he saved his bro, and he saved his bro’s daughter and that...that was enough to console him; at least long enough.

Donald Ackerson on the outside was a stoic and intimidating man, but on the inside he actually cared about those around him, particularly Freddie Jones and especially Jones’ daughter Alex, ‘lil firefly’ he’d call her. Even in this gloom, cruel and disgusting land, she always had a way to shine among those around her. He’d known Freddie Jones and his kid long enough that both were practically family, she was, in notion alone, his niece. At one point in his life Don thought the only people he’d have to protect her from would be the boys trying to get a piece of her. Nowadays he didn’t think he’d literally have to protect her from ‘things’ trying to get a ‘piece’ from her. Well...so long as ‘Uncle Don’ was around, she wouldn’t have to worry about nuthin’, same with her pops.

Coming back from his thoughts, he noticed that the mechanic was slowly invading his personal space, clearly engaged in his own thinking. Fortunately he noticed before ‘popping Don’s bubble’ the one that would have left him on the ground. Even so, the mechanic didn’t seem like a threat, not unlike some of the other knuckleheads, the ones that clearly needed a swift fist to the teeth if they even sneezed out of place. Out of the few that came to mind he trusted was probably KT, didn’t know why she was called that but she was a fighter, and just as quiet as he was. In a way if Don was Freddie Jones’ right hand, she would have been his left, hell maybe she was. Out of everyone else, there were too many kids and too many unwilling to follow people, both presented a problem in and of itself, but even though Don didn’t make the rules, he certainly helped enforce them.

Even as Freddie Jones told his plan of going to Costco, Don silently observed the group around them. Some seemed hesitant, while others eager, there were some...individuals who his gut didn’t trust, the grave digger seemed like one of them, that redneck (not quite right in the head) who brought back food seemed like another, the gangster and ex-con were top on his list of who to fuck up if shit hit the fan. All in all, there was a group of good, a group of bad, and a real~ nasty group of ugly that he had to keep an eye on all the time. So long as they didn’t stir up the hornet’s nest they’d be fine, but who knows how long that’d last.

---

Ollivander Clarke

Back in his younger days, Ollivander Hemingway Clarke, along with his late wife the beautiful Emily Diana Dickenson, would have enjoyed a day like today. A day out on the safari, a harsh sun beaming at their backs, a lion poised to roar as they drove their jeep in the savannah, pictures ready to be taken. Today...was not one of those days, i hoʻohalahala lā, or ‘harsh sun’ as the Hawaiians would say was not one to be taken for granted. It weakened and dehydrated the body, lost will to the spirit and in this case...made them a perfect target for Cathartes aura, or the Turkey Vulture as it were. Normally such a genus would rest along the Mississippi river, but chances would have it due to recent events they have migrated towards this area along with many others in search of food; Darwin would certainly be proud.

Ollie would have no doubt been one of the last survivors to join such a rancorous group, but as luck would have it he was in a bit of a pickle and truly needed their help. Now having joined them, roaming the land and the current Minnesota highway he was grateful for the temporary rescue from the uncomely beings that gave chase to him. As he continued his travels with the rather large group he noticed that the children had grown fond of him and his stories, along with any adults that wished to indulge him. Certainly there were some unruly characters, but they mostly kept their distance.from the rest of the group. This was no problem to the elderly professor as he shared his knowledge when he could, while also listening to those who desired his council. In this particular case, they were stopped, alone and debating and all he could do was stand about and wait.

What did catch his eye during the debate was the sword that the woman ‘KT’ wore. Perhaps it was an acronym, perhaps it meant nothing more than Katie and it was simply a misnomer. In the end, Ollie was glad to be amongst individuals with both a shared skill set and hopefully a mind open to all possibilities; even ones such as his. Curiosity has its constraints though, he limped over towards the swords-woman, his cane guiding every step, before leaning on the railing next to her.

”I apologize madame,” he nodded in respect, ”Indulge an old man like myself, but...I’ve been observing your sword for some time now, it appears ornate, yet most of its stones have either lost luster or fallen off completely.” Perhaps he was entering the lion’s den, but a scholar never loses a chance to ask a question. ”Given the intricacy...can I assume it's a Falchion? Something of the 15th century, possibly belonging to an Arabian warlord?” Even among the current discussion and the arguments being presented, Professor Ollivander had a knack of learning before debating.

Our Evil Ways

Olivander Clarke

^{_{FFD700|David McCallum}}

---

Professor Olivander ‘Doc’ Clarke
^{University Historian}

---

Physical Characteristics

Old and wise, with a kind smile that could melt anyone’s heart. Walks around with a cane more for appearances than to combat any physical ailment. More English than you at least.

Life Before the Apocalypse

”I think I was a small child when I fell in love with history and lore, listening to tales of gods and men from my father and grandfather. I’ve spent the last four decades at the Oxford University, both as a student and mentor, dedicating my life to teaching those who were willing to listen to all I had learned. I was to retire at the end of the school year, knowing that my life was one well lived, thought I’d go on Holiday to America, lovely time of the year too; who knew what would be waiting for me.

The thing for me about history and mythos, is that I always felt they exaggerated things a little. Hercules and his twelve labors, the tales of Thor and Ragnarok, even the mighty Count Dracula; it all seemed so...excessive. Now that I live in the world that I do, I realize I was mistaken, for the legends of old were not over the top, they just barely hit the nail on the head.”

Strengths & Weaknesses

➕ Storyteller: The books that Doc has read over the years, could fill the library of Alexandria a hundred fold. Stories are needed in these dark times to calm the nerves of those who feel that reality is out of their grasp.
➕ Wisdom & Cunning: The two may seem miles apart, but they are in fact two sides of the same coin. Age has taken its toll on the historian who can respond to certain situations, both when its quiet or rather tense.
➖ Frail Coil: While he’s not ready to lie down and roll over, age has had its toll on the Professor’s body and he’s not the man he used to be. Darwin is simply catching up to him.
➖ Mind over Matter: The brain can unlock the puzzles of history and time, but it can’t help if there’s something heavy in the way, or something that requires a stamina he does not possess.

Personal Goals

Short Term: In these harsh times, distractions are the wall between survival and total insanity. He needs to keep the group’s morale up any way he can, whether its be a story weaver or an ear to lend. Only through unity can the group survive, and he will do all he can to thread the lives of one another to their singular goal.

Long Term: He wants to pass on as much knowledge as he can before his time; history is not yet dead. Like in the story ‘The Giver’, he is one of the last bearers of historical knowledge, knowledge that can lead the group from total cultural annihilation, to one that can use the past to forge the future. He knows that he doesn’t have many more years in him, and with the walkers, his life expectancy is even shorter. For all that everyone has done for him to survive thus far, he wants to return the favor in the only way he knows how; to ensure that the group doesn’t lose their humanity.

Inventory

● Intricately Crafted Cane: Heirloom to his great grandfather, a survivor of the Afghan War, Veterans were awarded this cane. Despite its aged appearance, it does hide a deadly secret inside.
● Pocket Watch: Heirloom of his father, a sterling silver pocket watch the professor carries inside his pocket, doesn’t hurt to keep check of the time (even still has the key to wind it)
● Copy of Oliver Twist: Probably one of Doc’s favorite books, its edges are rather well worn and somewhat torn. It was the only book he brought while on Holiday.

Our Evil Ways

Arnold Myers

^{_{778899| Lane Toran}}

---

Arnold Myers
^{Automotive Mechanic}

---

Physical Characteristics

Well toned, burly beard and plenty of tats, most notable the flaming engine and cross wrenches on his back, an homage to the Jolly Roger, that pirates would fly on their flags.

Life Before the Apocalypse

"My father was a Mechanical Engineer, and I practically grew up around cars my whole life. When my dad wasn’t inventing the next great invention since sliced bread, he was spending time in the garage working on automobiles. Just...tinkering with them, upgrading them; and I was always at his side when he was. At the young age of 12, I began learning how cars worked, at 17 I was hired to work at a local automotive shop as a mechanic; best job I ever had. My original intent was to become and M.E. like my dad, but cars had a huge affect on me, the way they rumbled and roared. Honestly if it wasn’t fixing a car on the weekdays, it was watching Top Gear on the weekends with pops. After he passed...things haven't been the same, I mostly kept my head down to focus on my work, but now that the apocalypse has arrived, I have to face it head on, just like him. I've gotta use everything I know and ever will know to survive this, I wish you were here for this dad, and at the same time, I'm glad you ain't."

Strengths & Weaknesses

➕ Car Mechanics: Extensive knowledge of cars and how to make them work/ability to repair them (Gasoline, Diesel, Hybrid)
➕ General mechanics: Things he learned from his dad, something along the lines with tinkering with objects to figure out how they work
➖ Over-Achiever: While this might sound like a good thing, Arnold is the type to think things through so thoroughly on a project, that he’s wasting precious time to finish it (good in the old world, not in the new)
➖ Strong-Headed: Can be very opinionated on certain subjects and how they work, a trait that most engineers don. If he doesn’t agree with an idea he’ll do it his way, completely ignoring any other options.

Personal Goals

Short Term: He needs to acquire more tools, while he does have some, he doesn’t have the full arsenal that his shop originally had available. At the same time he wants to teach people basic mechanic skills, like changing oil or car batteries.
Long Term: Eventually making a mobile, armored caravan that can smash its way through zombies, raiders and blockades, it will require a significant amount of metal, tools and fuel, but it is a feasible goal, so long as everyone listens to his directive. Worst case, should he ever get infected, he wants a protege to learn all he knows, be to them like his father was to him.

Inventory

●Small toolkit (contains screwdrivers, wrenches, a hammer, some ratchets)
●(Big) Torque Wrench (Normally used to fasten anything between 25-250 ft-lb. onto a vehicle, now it's exclusively used as a club to bash in skulls)
●Father’s Class Ring (Mostly just a sentimental memento, of a time not so long ago. The ring is made of Sterling Silver, with an Amethyst stone inlay. Wears it as a necklace inside his shirt to not give away his position)

Donald "Don" Ackerson

^{_{FF4500 Dwayne Johnson}}

---

Donald “Don” Ackerson
^Bouncer

---

Physical Characteristics

More muscle than you want to deal with without a gun, can you smell what the Rock is cooking?

Life Before the Apocalypse

”Things were a lot simpler, y’know? Someone got a little touchy with the ladies, ya throw them out. Someone started cussing at the bartender, cuz they cut em’ off, ya threw them out. Someone straight up start fisticuffing and it’s not even happy hour? Ya threw the both of them out. Even Afghanistan was simple when I joined the army, but now...Things aren’t as simple anymore, but I do know one thing, I trust Freddie. The minute he said, we needed to bail, I said to him, “say no more”. I’m not good for much else than keeping people safe, it's a wonder I haven’t been bitten yet, but I think I’ve done more help as a protector than as a bouncer. I think I found my calling, it only took ‘till the end of the world to realize it.”

Strengths & Weaknesses

➕ Strongman: Even before the zombie outbreak, Don had been lifting weights almost all his life. Due to his extensive training, he can lift almost anything lighter than a brick shit house.
➕ Crowd Control: Aside from his strength, his size allows him to be an intimidating factor. People get too unruly, just stand in between them with a hard look on your face and tensions fall ‘reaaaaal’ quick.
➖Bulked Up: His overall strength equates to being massive, which means he can’t fit into tight spaces, which could lead to a detriment in the event that a horde ever showed up.
➖ Brawn vs. Brain: Sure his muscle comes in handy, but he’s not gonna be able to handle the daily crossword puzzle, let alone a myriad of minefield mazes.

Personal Goals

Short Term: Just keep the group together and inline, last thing he wants is chaos to come around, and that’s a fine line between that and insanity. So long as he can maintain order until something stable comes along, all he can do is keep the peace.

Long Term: He just wants safety for the entire caravan. Human life is sacred, at least that’s what his mom told him. A shelter for all of them to thrive, food, water, electricity and general necessities is a must. As a bouncer his goal is to protect his family, and their caravan has become his new family.

Inventory

●A set of brass knuckles (Something he kept on him since the beginning, someone wants their dome knocked around, the knuckles help, but otherwise he usually delegates his own hands)
● DogTags (A thing of the past, something that existed before the end, a war before ‘the war’. He doesn’t want to forget that life, though he sure as hell is regretting that he can’t forget his current life).
●Rambo Knife (A gift after he graduated boot camp, more of as a gag from his college buddies, but in the end times, he’s found it more handy than any other utility he owns whether it’s killing Walkers or prying open doors.)

Ollivander Clarke

^{_{FFD700|David McCallum}}

---

Professor Ollivander ‘Ollie’ Clarke
^{University Historian}

---

Physical Characteristics

Old and wise, with a kind smile that could melt anyone’s heart. Walks around with a cane more for appearances than to combat any physical ailment. More English than you at least.

Life Before the Apocalypse

”I think I was a small child when I fell in love with history and lore, listening to tales of gods and men from my father and grandfather. I’ve spent the last four decades at the Oxford University, both as a student and mentor, dedicating my life to teaching those who were willing to listen to all I had learned. I was to retire at the end of the school year, knowing that my life was one well lived, thought I’d go on Holiday to America, lovely time of the year too; who knew what would be waiting for me.

The thing for me about history and mythos, is that I always felt they exaggerated things a little. Hercules and his twelve labors, the tales of Thor and Ragnarok, even the mighty Count Dracula; it all seemed so...excessive. Now that I live in the world that I do, I realize I was mistaken, for the legends of old were not over the top, they just barely hit the nail on the head.”

Strengths & Weaknesses

➕ Storyteller: The books that Doc has read over the years, could fill the library of Alexandria a hundred fold. Stories are needed in these dark times to calm the nerves of those who feel that reality is out of their grasp.
➕ Wisdom & Cunning: The two may seem miles apart, but they are in fact two sides of the same coin. Age has taken its toll on the historian who can respond to certain situations, both when its quiet or rather tense.
➖ Frail Coil: While he’s not ready to lie down and roll over, age has had its toll on the Professor’s body and he’s not the man he used to be. Darwin is simply catching up to him.
➖ Mind over Matter: The brain can unlock the puzzles of history and time, but it can’t help if there’s something heavy in the way, or something that requires a stamina he does not possess.

Personal Goals

Short Term: In these harsh times, distractions are the wall between survival and total insanity. He needs to keep the group’s morale up any way he can, whether its be a story weaver or an ear to lend. Only through unity can the group survive, and he will do all he can to thread the lives of one another to their singular goal.

Long Term: He wants to pass on as much knowledge as he can before his time; history is not yet dead. Like in the story ‘The Giver’, he is one of the last bearers of historical knowledge, knowledge that can lead the group from total cultural annihilation, to one that can use the past to forge the future. He knows that he doesn’t have many more years in him, and with the walkers, his life expectancy is even shorter. For all that everyone has done for him to survive thus far, he wants to return the favor in the only way he knows how; to ensure that the group doesn’t lose their humanity.

Inventory

● Intricately Crafted Cane: Heirloom to his great grandfather, a survivor of the Afghan War, Veterans were awarded this cane. Despite its aged appearance, it does hide a deadly secret inside.
● Pocket Watch: Heirloom of his father, a sterling silver pocket watch the professor carries inside his pocket, doesn’t hurt to keep check of the time (even still has the key to wind it)
● Copy of Oliver Twist: Probably one of Doc’s favorite books, its edges are rather well worn and somewhat torn. It was the only book he brought while on Holiday.

Our Evil Ways

So I was 'totally' informed of this RP 'way in advance' thanks @Lovely Complex, if you've still got room I'd like to reserve a spot. Noticed y'all don't have a mechanic, so that's my first character, I'll get right on it.

Arnold Myers

^{_{778899| Lane Toran}}

---

Arnold Myers
^{Automotive Mechanic}

---

Physical Characteristics

Well toned, burly beard and plenty of tats, most notable the flaming engine and cross wrenches on his back, an homage to the Jolly Roger, that pirates would fly on their flags.

Life Before the Apocalypse

"My father was a Mechanical Engineer, and I practically grew up around cars my whole life. When my dad wasn’t inventing the next great invention since sliced bread, he was spending time in the garage working on automobiles. Just...tinkering with them, upgrading them; and I was always at his side when he was. At the young age of 12, I began learning how cars worked, at 17 I was hired to work at a local automotive shop as a mechanic; best job I ever had. My original intent was to become and M.E. like my dad, but cars had a huge affect on me, the way they rumbled and roared. Honestly if it wasn’t fixing a car on the weekdays, it was watching Top Gear on the weekends with pops. After he passed...things haven't been the same, I mostly kept my head down to focus on my work, but now that the apocalypse has arrived, I have to face it head on, just like him. I've gotta use everything I know and ever will know to survive this, I wish you were here for this dad, and at the same time, I'm glad you ain't."

Strengths & Weaknesses

➕ Car Mechanics: Extensive knowledge of cars and how to make them work/ability to repair them (Gasoline, Diesel, Hybrid)
➕ General mechanics: Things he learned from his dad, something along the lines with tinkering with objects to figure out how they work
➖ Over-Achiever: While this might sound like a good thing, Arnold is the type to think things through so thoroughly on a project, that he’s wasting precious time to finish it (good in the old world, not in the new)
➖ Strong-Headed: Can be very opinionated on certain subjects and how they work, a trait that most engineers don. If he doesn’t agree with an idea he’ll do it his way, completely ignoring any other options.

Personal Goals

Short Term: He needs to acquire more tools, while he does have some, he doesn’t have the full arsenal that his shop originally had available. At the same time he wants to teach people basic mechanic skills, like changing oil or car batteries.
Long Term: Eventually making a mobile, armored caravan that can smash its way through zombies, raiders and blockades, it will require a significant amount of metal, tools and fuel, but it is a feasible goal, so long as everyone listens to his directive. Worst case, should he ever get infected, he wants a protege to learn all he knows, be to them like his father was to him.

Inventory

●Small toolkit (contains screwdrivers, wrenches, a hammer, some ratchets)
●(Big) Torque Wrench (Normally used to fasten anything between 25-250 ft-lb. onto a vehicle, now it's exclusively used as a club to bash in skulls)
●Father’s Class Ring (Mostly just a sentimental memento, of a time not so long ago. The ring is made of Sterling Silver, with an Amethyst stone inlay. Wears it as a necklace inside his shirt to not give away his position)

Donald "Don" Ackerson

^{_{FF4500 Dwayne Johnson}}

---

Donald “Don” Ackerson
^Bouncer

---

Physical Characteristics

More muscle than you want to deal with without a gun, can you smell what the Rock is cooking?

Life Before the Apocalypse

”Things were a lot simpler, y’know? Someone got a little touchy with the ladies, ya throw them out. Someone started cussing at the bartender, cuz they cut em’ off, ya threw them out. Someone straight up start fisticuffing and it’s not even happy hour? Ya threw the both of them out. Even Afghanistan was simple when I joined the army, but now...Things aren’t as simple anymore, but I do know one thing, I trust Freddie. The minute he said, we needed to bail, I said to him, “say no more”. I’m not good for much else than keeping people safe, it's a wonder I haven’t been bitten yet, but I think I’ve done more help as a protector than as a bouncer. I think I found my calling, it only took ‘till the end of the world to realize it.”

Strengths & Weaknesses

➕ Strongman: Even before the zombie outbreak, Don had been lifting weights almost all his life. Due to his extensive training, he can lift almost anything lighter than a brick shit house.
➕ Crowd Control: Aside from his strength, his size allows him to be an intimidating factor. People get too unruly, just stand in between them with a hard look on your face and tensions fall ‘reaaaaal’ quick.
➖Bulked Up: His overall strength equates to being massive, which means he can’t fit into tight spaces, which could lead to a detriment in the event that a horde ever showed up.
➖ Brawn vs. Brain: Sure his muscle comes in handy, but he’s not gonna be able to handle the daily crossword puzzle, let alone a myriad of minefield mazes.

Personal Goals

Short Term: Just keep the group together and inline, last thing he wants is chaos to come around, and that’s a fine line between that and insanity. So long as he can maintain order until something stable comes along, all he can do is keep the peace.

Long Term: He just wants safety for the entire caravan. Human life is sacred, at least that’s what his mom told him. A shelter for all of them to thrive, food, water, electricity and general necessities is a must. As a bouncer his goal is to protect his family, and their caravan has become his new family.

Inventory

●A set of brass knuckles (Something he kept on him since the beginning, someone wants their dome knocked around, the knuckles help, but otherwise he usually delegates his own hands)
● DogTags (A thing of the past, something that existed before the end, a war before ‘the war’. He doesn’t want to forget that life, though he sure as hell is regretting that he can’t forget his current life).
●Rambo Knife (A gift after he graduated boot camp, more of as a gag from his college buddies, but in the end times, he’s found it more handy than any other utility he owns whether it’s killing Walkers or prying open doors.)

Strings

A collab with @Moon Child

---

---

On the far side of the nightclub, tucked away in his own little corner with a wall separating him from the dance floor, was Joshua Paxton. The man was sitting in his office, elegantly built in both function and form and sporting the dark, yet curiously inviting interior befitting of a nightclub owner. A wooden desk, leather armchairs, leather couch and a drink station adorned the setting along with a few other amenities. The walls that blocked him from the dance floor were made from thick frosted glass, and sound proofed so that only the dull thumping of the bass broke through. The intent of this office being on the opposite side from Tate was to give the ambience that the two young co-owners despised each other. This wasn’t entirely far from the truth, but it more-so enhanced their ongoing rivalry. Like a game of chess, strategically countering one another: white king vs black. Which one was who, was up for the patrons to decide.

For all intents and purposes though, it was not just his office, but his second home… Which had become more true given his co-owner’s decision to form a partnership with Spectrum, had left Joshua running a little more ragged than usual.

“What the hell do you mean, it’s going to be late?!” For example: this shipment of high end liquor and kegs that Tate desperately wanted, but chose to go against his advice on waiting until the partnership had actually fallen through. “Oh! The roads are that bad, yeah?!” A freak blizzard came out of nowhere in the midwest, causing the trucks to be delayed, “I’m well fucking aware that weather happens! Take a step outside once in a while and maybe a fucking rock will come flying at your face! You prick!”

Oooh boy, he was definitely feeling it: little to no sleep, wrinkled clothes and a five o’clock shadow will do that to you. He was already his third whiskey in and it wasn’t even noon. “Frankly, Princess, I don’t give a damn! If you don’t get me this shipment by the end of the week, it's your ass! You get that, right?!” Pawns almost gone, pieces are dwindling, and to top the icing on the cake, he stole his queen: Lena, the best damn bartender on this side of Boston. She had the idea of becoming a house mom and giving up the bar as her primary form of income. She was the damn reason the bar made as much money at night as it did! From his perspective, Tate was aiming for a ‘Check’ in this match.

As if to dampen his mood more, his door started being knocked on rather hard. “OH, FOR FUCK’S SAKE! I’m busy, FUCK OFF, TATE!!!” Tate could go pump sand for all he cared at this point, he had work to do. ”No, not you dipshit! This conversation ain’t over yet!” he shouted into the phone.

For the second time in the day, Stephanie showed her lack of manners by shamelessly barging into Joshua’s office without being invited to do so. “It’s me, babe, not your dumbass cousin,” she declared as she shut and locked the door behind her, marched into the room and plopped herself in one of the armchairs facing the desk. “I need attention.”

Huh...unexpected, his brows went from shock back into just slightly pissed, “Don’t matter. I’m busy. Piss off.” He was acting about as good as he looked right now, practically a mess as he tore into the phone again, swivelling his chair away from his employee, “Look, just throw some fuckin’ chains on those bad boys and run the goddamn booze up here! How hard is it to drive a fuckin’ truck!” Noticing she hadn’t moved yet, he waved his hand to the door, brushing her off, “You want attention. Sweetheart? Go talk to one of the other girls. That’s what I literally pay them for. Better yet: go stare into a mirror. At least that way it’s free.”

“What the fuck is up with you Paxton men this morning?!” she cried out, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Stephanie was not leaving the room until she got what she wanted from at least one of her bosses, and most certainly didn’t care if the person who Josh was speaking to heard her. “I wish I knew what stick crawled up both your asses this morning, or is it just ‘let’s be assholes to Spice’ day? Because I wish I would have gotten the fucking memo!”

“Christ almighty! Listen, bub, it's your lucky day! I have an in-house problem right now, but you better believe I’m calling back!” he swung around rapidly in his chair, ’Cause right now, your ass is grass, AND I’M THE FUCKIN’ MOWER!!!” He slammed the phone, before turning all his attention at the female across his desk, “What. In the FUCK. Do you want?!” he shouted through gritted teeth, “Do you know how much of a fuckin’ mess my cousin has gotten me into?! I’m trying to run a business, plan an event, coordinate with entertainment, logistic-stchicking booze halfway from across the country, to something that I’m not even sure is actually happening yet.” The whole time, he’s smacking the back of his hand into his open palm, as if to accentuate each verse. Tearing away from his desk, he’s pacing back and forth. “My ‘stick’, if you will, is a log named Tate Fuckin’ Paxton, who’s really bustin’ my balls. And to top it off, stealing one of my girls!” he emphasised, pointing at himself before pointing at her. “to be your emotional hand-holder. So, forgive me, dear, if I’m a little fuckin’ livid!”

Instead of lashing out right back at her boss, Spice could feel her eyes start to tear up again. As much as she tried, she couldn’t understand why the hell were both Josh and Tate in such bad moods, or why they were choosing to take it out on her of all people. She decided that maybe the best idea was to simply call it a day and leave things be.

“Whatever. It’s fine. I’ll just get out of your way then. I’m sorry I’m being such a bother today,” Stephanie finally muttered before getting up and heading towards the door.

Breathing heavily, his tirade over, he felt a small pang of guilt at just letting loose on his employee, but the stress had been building up. Taking a deep breath and downing his whiskey, he sighed, before pouring another glass and downing that one too. Slowly he placed the glass upside down on the table before smoothing out his hair and walking towards her, a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry... My cousin’s a prick and I haven’t gotten any real sleep in four days, so I’m a little on edge. Stay a minute, won’t you?” Releasing his grip on her, letting her decide to stay or go, he made his way back to his chair and sat in it, sighing in discomfort. “Look, I’ll give you the time of day. What did he do now, and what sense do I have to talk him into?” His gaze was somewhat calculating, but one of concern. To lose out on two employees in one morning would be a disaster, lest he hear shit from his cousin for running out one of their dancers.

Letting out a sigh, Spice turned on her heel and trudged back to the seat she’d just been in less than a minute ago. It didn’t take long for her to pour out her heart to Josh, words coming up in a stream of emotions that were begging to be released. “It’s just… Tate and I had a really good thing going on before you guys hired me here. I’m not saying we were talking a relationship or anything serious like that - God knows you can never tie down a man like that - , but we messed around a lot and we both liked the silent agreement that was going on. So when I got the job, my first obvious question for him was if this meant things would change between us, and he fucking promised me that they wouldn't. And now, fast forward to a few weeks, he’s suddenly acting as if nothing ever happened and I’m just another one of the bunch!” she stated, using hand gestures to gesticulate as her voice was steadily rising along with her annoyance and anger about the whole thing. “And that’s not all, of course: the asshole has the nerve to fucking blow me off everytime I try to confront him about it! How do you even deal with shit like that?! It pisses me the fuck off!”

A brow raised, he answered rather shortly, “Honestly? Whiskey…” And with that he raised his form up, trudged over to the bar and poured his buzzed self another glass, making sure to pour one for the poor girl before him. Then, as he resumed his position in front of her, making sure to shove the clean glass in front of her, he recounted her position. “I’m not sure what you’re expecting here… You want me to tell my cousin that his gonads need a fine polish in the one machine willing to clean them? Taking a strong sip of the brown liquid, he breathed heavily. “Frankly, darling, once my cousin has his mind set on something, there’s no turning back or going around it. All I can do is follow along his railroad tracked mind. Something you might have to get used to.” Another sip, “My advice: find yourself another train to ride. ‘Cause if this one’s full up of guff, you might be out of luck.” Tate could be harsh, sure, but like he said: once he had his mind set on something, it was hard to fall out of line. You just had to make sure you didn’t burn in the sun behind his caravan.

As Stephanie took the whiskey glass that was offered to her from the desk, she mulled over what Josh had just said. If there was somebody in this world who knew Tate inside and out, it would most certainly be his cousin. So, obviously, she had to trust what he was saying. In other circumstances, Spice would have ignored all advice given to her and, like the stubborn girl that she was, would have continued to fight a long-lost battle. But with Tate, it was easy to see that the fight was not worth it. It didn’t mean that she would be giving up completely, of course. Instead, she would find other ways to achieve her goals, while getting extra benefits for herself in the process.

Just like that, a lightbulb went off in her head. It was an idea that would be considered incredibly scummy by most, but would it really be that bad if they were never serious in the first place? Spice thought not.

Smirking now, Stephanie downed the whiskey in the glass in one shot and stood up from her chair, a gleam of determination in her brown eyes. “So if you’re saying that Tate’s a lost cause, do you have any idea of what other trains I can be riding off into the sunset?” she asked in a kittenish voice, walking over around the desk to Josh’s side and taking a seat on it.

His eyebrow further raised, he couldn’t help but wonder… No… She couldn’t be… But maybe…

A light bulb settled in his own head. He and Tate had their differences, sure, but even this could be crossing of the line of their rivalry. Even so, his cousin had been fucking him in the ass for the past week. Wouldn’t it be so poetic if he could do the same to one of his baggages?

‘Perhaps the white queen could be of some benefit here’

A small smile creeped up Josh’s lips, almost Grinch-like, as he reached for a remote. “I don’t even know what you could possibly mean, Kitten,” he said, a homage to his cousin’s belittling of the dancer, while a button pressed and a bed suddenly unfurled itself from the wall. “I suppose the Amtrak is always an option.”. As he stood, just tall enough above her, his dark eyes were piercing every fiber of her being. “But I know of one caboose just raring to let their steam out, maybe even two.” Eyes locked onto hers, he lifted a finger just below her chin, raising it to meet his own. “I don’t suppose you’ll be needing a ticket?” Sure it was getting a little corny, but both she and Tate had this coming: their purple thread, nearly centimeters apart from one another.

Well, fuck. This was going a hell of a lot better than what she had anticipated.

Not only was Josh interested in the thinly-veiled proposition Spice had just made him, but he seemed to be absolutely willing to be an active participant of it. As if his words weren’t enough, he backed them up with actions: summoning the bed from the wall with the push of a button and making her temporarily breathless when their eyes met. Stephanie didn’t dare say a word, afraid that if she did she would somehow disrupt the sexual tension that was suddenly filling the room. The single finger gently raising her chin up to face him sent feelings of wanting, desire and lust down her body, all of them enhanced by the purple string that bind them together.

Instead of saying anything, Spice offered Joshua her most sultry, irresistible smile, slowly licking her top lip with the tip of her tongue. She knew that would be enough for him to know exactly where her mind was at.

His eyes traced her lips before looking back at her. ”I’ll take that as a yes, then,” he said before sweeping the broad off her feet and gently tossing her onto the now fully extended bed. Josh wasted no time in climbing atop her, lustful eyes staring at her every curve before he gave Stephanie the attention she needed. “Don’t worry, my darling: all your worries will soon come to an end. After all, I’m very good at what I do.”

The Spice in front of him may feel she had won this match. But the truth was that the early bird gets the worm, and he was the hawk to her caterpillar. She played right into him; right into Tate’s dopey and delicate heart. He’d bed the queen of white only to strike a deafening blow to his cousin the king. ”Counter-check and subsequently...Mate….

Strings

Also in the middle of a collab between Josh and Spice, expect that real soon

Strings

---

Walking through the brisk morning air, a young man stifles a yawn, having stayed up a little later than normal. Only 2am of course, how bad could that be? Pretty awful if you have to work nearly 6 hours later, with little to no time to get ready for work the following morning. “Damn Fortnite is going to be the death of me…” the optician spoke, stifling yet another yawn, trudging through the streets of Boston to the nearest transit station. The walk from his condo wasn’t too far from his work, but on days where he got barely five and half hours of sleep, dragging his feet from his bed to his job was never a fun one, so the T was the only option.

It was cold out, cold enough that anyone smart enough would have worn a jacket. It’s not to say Kyle isn’t smart enough, he just really hates warm weather, so the cold provided him a necessary balance from his usual furnace level body temperature. That being said, he was at least smart enough to put on some gloves and wear a hat, as well as wear his Maui Jim sunglasses to combat the glaring fury of the sun; even then it was pretty bright.

Eventually making it to the stop, he pulled out his phone to check on any notifications either his boss or social media wanted to inform him of. As if on cue, Jamie’s blog sent a notification as soon as he pulled it out of his pocket, the screen suddenly turning on and showing a banner of bright cheeriness.

You've received 1 post on Muellerphotos/operationbeautiful Blog "Everyone has self-doubt, even me"

Jamie...Kyle pinched his brows a little, currently in his lack of sleep manner he was as bright as a ray of pitch black, coffee wouldn’t fix it but...maybe a little of reading would. Begrudgingly he turned on the blogging app to only realize that at full volume with strangers around him that this was a vlog, ”Jesus!” as he tried to pause the vlog. He had to pause a moment as people were staring at him, but he chuckled shyly, apologizing before putting in a ear bud and plugging it to the phone.

Turning on the app again he listened to his friend go on her rant, listing ‘positivity’ and ‘fighting her inner demons’, it was rather gushy. Then again, this was Jamie, the spirit of sunshine, puppycats and rainbows, a little much for Kyle at times, but then again a little nice and comprehensible. It was good knowing there was a friend out there who exuded such a brilliant and shining aura. It wasn’t to say he had any bad juju by far, but his aura was more on the calming and ‘think this through’ kind of side, one to help dampen emotion just enough to not let it run like a wild and raging horse in a river. Jamie was an exception, sometimes an annoying one, but an exception as he admired the green string that bonded to his finger, invisible to the naked eye, but not the soul.

Ending the vlog he sighed somewhat happily to himself, knowing this week would probably be a rough one, including the weeks ahead of him. The bus had arrived and he boarded it, taking care to swipe his transit card through before seating himself near the back. It was going to be a rather tedious time of the year, Insurance weeks had passed him a little over a month ago, but now a new beast had presented itself; Spectrum. While not necessarily a manager at ‘An Eye for Fashion’ optical boutique, he was more involved in the store than most anyone else, which left him the designated role of, how was it described again... “Director of Event Logistics”

So...COEL was his role in this division, that essentially meant calling every frame rep across the board to see if they’re willing to provide eyewear to display for Spectrum’s event. This also included, raffles, giveaways and who knows what else to appease the crowd and hopefully bring them into the boutique. It wasn’t like Kyle wasn’t up for a challenge, but it was tedious work, work that his boss should be doing. It’s not to say that his boss was lazy, but he definitely had a habit of dropping tedious workloads onto his employees. Well..another day, another dollar, the life of an Optician was certainly never a boring one. Brainstorming, he awaited for the inevitable signal that his stop for work was nearby, listlessly browsing the internet from his phone.

Strings

Kyle Parker

26 ● Male ● Hetero

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

summary

Hard at work, fun at play. A kind, yet fierce soul and a hopeless romantic.

brief history

Kyle’s childhood wasn’t exactly a healthy one, he grew up in an upper middle class family, with a mother who loved him unconditionally, but with a father who whip him into line if he was ever out of turn. Being the youngest in the family, Kyle essentially grew up around adults his whole life, maturing faster than most. He didn’t really understand kids his own age, and despite his best efforts to fit in, he felt like a social outcast among his classmates and peers.

Despite the odds, Kyle made the best of it, he socialized the best he could, attended high school with the intent of getting as far away from it all as he could, battling his inner demons along the way. After graduating high school he attended a university in Brooklyn, NY, following the mandate that “the only way to succeed in life is to get a degree”. Like all his life, he fell in line, but something about that line felt stagnant, he was just...bored. So after a few short semesters, he flunked out of school and returned home to his hellhole, the life he vowed to never go back to; mentally it broke him.

After several discussions with various therapists, an epiphany. He had fallen in line for so long, it’s lull drolling making him a submissive and obedient servant to its whims that he had no voice of his own. He needed to break away, to do something he wanted to do, not what society had predestined him from birth. Days later he was back on a bus to New York to make his claim in a city he had grown fond of. It took time, he crashed in with old roommates and friends, willing to give him a chance, then finally he found his beacon. An optical shop, whose owner was kind enough to give him a chance and teach him all he knew. That was nearly 6 years ago, since then he’s earned his license to work in both New York and Massachusetts, and is now working for a high end optical boutique, helping the city to see one pair of eyeglasses at a time.

strings

⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓘𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓤𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{Character's thoughts on this person here.}
⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓙𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓮 𝓜𝓾𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓻⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{So what's there to say about Jamie... *scratches head* h-honestly it was like an impractical sale turned into a more than wonderful friendship. I mean... she came in, wanted contacts, also wanted glasses, I told her that the frames were too big for her, she wouldn't listen, just loved them. At the end of the day, I'm happy I met her, but...God I cringe every time I hear her recommend me because I sold her THAT frame.}
⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓓𝓮𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓾𝓼 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{The Celtic's 'King', I think that's what they called him...I'm not much of a sports fan, but hey Demetrius is a cool guy. I'm not a Brooklyn native, but I lived there long enough to know the game and speak the slang. Plus, from one healthcare provider to another, we have a mutual respect for one another. I help him see better and should I suffer some terrible accident, I know he's got my back. If nothing else, we get to trade stories from our time in New York.}
⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓔𝓵𝓵𝓪 𝓐𝓵𝓿𝓪𝓻𝓮𝔃⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{You know, it used to be black or brown when it came to choosing eyewear. Sometime back in the 50s, maybe it might've been Marilyn Monroe, or Ray-Ban that helped popularize it I don't know. Point is, fashion and glasses kind of fell hand in hand between companies like Tom Ford, Chanel, Etnia Barcelona, the market is constantly expanding. I'd like to think that's why we bonded so easily when she stepped into the boutique one day; a mutual appreciation for fashion. Sure she's drop dead gorgeous, but I don't think that'd go anywhere, if nothing else we're mutual colloquial fashion advisers to one another.}
⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓘𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓤𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{Character's thoughts on this person here.}
⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓘𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓤𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{Character's thoughts on this person here.}
⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓘𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓤𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{Character's thoughts on this person here.}
⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓘𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓤𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷⎯⎯⎯⎯

other information

dialogue colour: Palegreen
faceclaim:Logan Lerman
theme song:

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Joshua Paxton

30 ● Male ● Bisexual

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

summary

A man of wealth and taste, rather charming and charismatic

brief history

Joshua grew up in a rather liberal home with varying freedoms and usually without consequences. After all, Joshua was an innocent and honest boy, or at least that was how he portrayed himself. Truth be told, even as a child he had a way of pulling on people’s strings and allowing themselves to be who they really were, reveal truths about themselves that they would never tell anyone else in a thousand lifetimes. Some would call this behavior ulterior or malicious, he would call it advantageous and beneficial, whether it to himself or others.

Take his cousin for example, poor little Tate, only a few years younger than him, living under a religious dictatorship. Whenever his family visited, he’d certainly respect his aunt and uncle’s wishes, but when it came to Tate, he’d let the boy’s true nature fly. Together the two would challenge themselves, a bonding rivalry, a brotherhood like no other, sometimes even sharing activities his foster parents would consider...sacrilege.

It wasn’t until Tate had his idea for grandeur that Joshua found an opportunity that would benefit them both. Allowing his cousin’s impulses to flow, and investing everything they had, together they laid the cornerstone for where their ‘church’ would be built. At Impulse, Joshua manages the front end of things as co-owner, taking care of day to day tasks and bartending from his pedestal, keeping an eye on the populace; waiting for his next toy to emerge.

strings

⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓘𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓤𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{Character's thoughts on this person here.}
⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓘𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓤𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{Character's thoughts on this person here.}
⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓢𝓹𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝓒𝓻𝓸𝓼𝓼⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{Spice has been a loyal evangelist here at IMPULSE, but feels as though she is being neglected by the holy father. Who else is she to come to but his most trusted bishop, and if she is out to seek confession, who am I to deny her? Besides, all is fair in love and war, brother..}
⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓣𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓟𝓪𝔁𝓽𝓸𝓷⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{Sure, he might be a little thick in the skull, but he’s practically family, and blood is thicker than water. Besides, if I'm to live the high life, it might as well be with a person who I actually give a damn about...even if he won't admit that he gives just as much a damn about me..}
⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓘𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓤𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{Character's thoughts on this person here.}
⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓘𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓤𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{Character's thoughts on this person here.}

other information

dialogue colour: Indianred
faceclaim:Tom Ellis
theme song:

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Strings

Kyle Parker

26 ● Male ● Hetero

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

summary

Hard at work, fun at play. A kind, yet fierce soul and a hopeless romantic.

brief history

Kyle’s childhood wasn’t exactly a healthy one, he grew up in an upper middle class family, with a mother who loved him unconditionally, but with a father who whip him into line if he was ever out of turn. Being the youngest in the family, Kyle essentially grew up around adults his whole life, maturing faster than most. He didn’t really understand kids his own age, and despite his best efforts to fit in, he felt like a social outcast among his classmates and peers.

Despite the odds, Kyle made the best of it, he socialized the best he could, attended high school with the intent of getting as far away from it all as he could, battling his inner demons along the way. After graduating high school he attended a university in Brooklyn, NY, following the mandate that “the only way to succeed in life is to get a degree”. Like all his life, he fell in line, but something about that line felt stagnant, he was just...bored. So after a few short semesters, he flunked out of school and returned home to his hellhole, the life he vowed to never go back to; mentally it broke him.

After several discussions with various therapists, an epiphany. He had fallen in line for so long, it’s lull drolling making him a submissive and obedient servant to its whims that he had no voice of his own. He needed to break away, to do something he wanted to do, not what society had predestined him from birth. Days later he was back on a bus to New York to make his claim in a city he had grown fond of. It took time, he crashed in with old roommates and friends, willing to give him a chance, then finally he found his beacon. An optical shop, whose owner was kind enough to give him a chance and teach him all he knew. That was nearly 6 years ago, since then he’s earned his license to work in New York, is now working for a high end optical boutique, helping the city to see one pair of eyeglasses at a time.

strings

⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓘𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓤𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{Character's thoughts on this person here.}
⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓘𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓤𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{Character's thoughts on this person here.}
⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓘𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓤𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{Character's thoughts on this person here.}
⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓘𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓤𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{Character's thoughts on this person here.}
⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓘𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓤𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{Character's thoughts on this person here.}
⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓘𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓤𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷⎯⎯⎯⎯

other information

dialogue colour: Palegreen
faceclaim:Logan Lerman
theme song:

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Joshua Paxton

30 ● Male ● Bisexual

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

summary

A man of wealth and taste, rather charming and charismatic

brief history

Joshua grew up in a rather liberal home with varying freedoms and usually without consequences. After all, Joshua was an innocent and honest boy, or at least that was how he portrayed himself. Truth be told, even as a child he had a way of pulling on people’s strings and allowing themselves to be who they really were, reveal truths about themselves that they would never tell anyone else in a thousand lifetimes. Some would call this behavior ulterior or malicious, he would call it advantageous and beneficial, whether it to himself or others.

Take his cousin for example, poor little Tate, only a few years younger than him, living under a religious dictatorship. Whenever his family visited, he’d certainly respect his aunt and uncle’s wishes, but when it came to Tate, he’d let the boy’s true nature fly. Together the two would challenge themselves, a bonding rivalry, a brotherhood like no other, sometimes even sharing activities his foster parents would consider...sacrilege.

It wasn’t until Tate had his idea for grandeur that Joshua found an opportunity that would benefit them both. Allowing his cousin’s impulses to flow, and investing everything they had, together they laid the cornerstone for where their ‘church’ would be built. At Impulse, Joshua manages the front end of things as co-owner, taking care of day to day tasks and bartending from his pedestal, keeping an eye on the populace; waiting for his next toy to emerge.

strings

⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓘𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓤𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{Character's thoughts on this person here.}
⎯⎯⎯⎯Tate Paxton⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{Sure, he might be a little thick in the skull, but he’s practically family, and blood is thicker than water..}
⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓘𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓤𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{Character's thoughts on this person here.}
⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓘𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓤𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{Character's thoughts on this person here.}
⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓘𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓤𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{Character's thoughts on this person here.}
⎯⎯⎯⎯𝓘𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓤𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷⎯⎯⎯⎯
^{Character's thoughts on this person here.}

other information

dialogue colour: Indianred
faceclaim:Tom Ellis
theme song:

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Secrets

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A car whizzes down the countryside, revving and roaring with each shift of the gear and press of the gas pedal. The air felt and smelt so much cleaner than L.A., her choice in moving having been more than a welcome one when she made it nearly 5 years ago. Adelaide mused on her life choices, how much had changed and how much simply stayed the same. Well she was still a pain in the ass (literally) to lecherous men, and Charlie now at the ripe age of 5 was just beginning to learn the benefits of climbing trees (Adelaide having to catch him from falling and scolding him for it more than once). She chuckled to herself, life certainly was a funny thing, and sometimes it was a tragic one.

Her mind wandered to darker places, her parents, her uncle, the Reese family now in their own time of crisis, two members simply...vanishing. Life could be unsettling sure, but for a father and his own child to suddenly disappear, it was just uncanny, coincidental even. The evidence seemed to point to the father kidnapping the child out of sheer insanity and devastation over his recent losses; who knew what his other children were going through. Maybe her neighbor will figure it out, that detective with those bright blue eyes and just tussled enough hair. Adelaide didn’t see him often, probably the conflicting schedules of a Nanny and an officer of the law, but when she did...man was he a looker. That being said, dating and relationships were the furthest thing from her mind, right now what mattered, was caring for those kids; they need their ‘Auntie’.

Shifting the gears she sped her way down the road, she knew Ana didn’t approve of tardiness, but beaut of a car had her covered. An ‘81 Trans Am, it was her Uncle’s, after his death she kept it as a memento, it even had some upgrade and alterations to the original, like having a stick shift transmission; automatics were for pussies anyway.

---

After some time she made it to the Victorian estate of Annabelle Dawson, the loaded and way too uptight lawyer, also her employer. Despite that description, Adelaide had some real appreciation for the woman, she was dedicated, focused and damn good at her job. That also being said, the money she was paid was real good, allowed her to have a home and buy clothing befit for presentation in front of her children, like the purple button up blouse that covered her tat and non-hole filled denims she wore. The dull revving of the Trans Am filled the air as it pulled into the driveway.

Interestingly enough someone was at the door...with flowers? Weird, didn’t think Ana would have found another Romeo given some of the stuff she’d heard about her ex. ’Huh… guess I’ll brighten the Boss’ day up’, she thought. Getting out of her car and closing the door, she casually strut over to the flower boy and piped up ”Can I help you or something?” The kid looked nervous, but stuttered out, “y-y-yes I’m hear t-to deliver some FLOWERS” his voice cracked. He coughed before continuing, “flowers t-t-o a uh…” he looked down at the card, “Ms…. uhh Daw-”. Adelaide had enough ”Yea-yeah, that’s me, give me the damn clipboard” she snatched the board from the kids hand, quickly forging her boss’ signature, shoved the clipboard back into his hands and snagged the flowers, ”Thanks kid, now buzz off” she jerked her head towards his car as he squealed in distress and bolted. ”Tsk...nobody need that shit” Turning to the door, she rapped on it with her knuckles before opening it, ”Oh Lucyyyy, I’m hooooommmme!”