Drag

Probity

Hello as with most things im probably doing a good degree of shit wrong in this post in which case please feel free to give me a rigirous punishment for its what i deserve. that said here's my take on the holy father of Probity

Reverend Bryer

Father Michael S. Bryer, 24

Beloved Pastor

Arguably the antithesis of the aging, judgmental and old testament worshiping pastor, Reverend Bryer is quite commonly regarded as laid back and easygoing, never seeming to cast judgement on any of the townsfolk who, frankly, really really deserve a pretty good amount of it. People feel comfortable confessing and confronting their sins to the Father because he never seems to look down on them, always encouraging them to look towards the light and find comfort in the watchful eyes of God. Indeed, Father Bryers makes people feel good about themselves and is yet another cherished member of the community...

Immoral Apathetic

...Which is an ironic sentiment because Michael Bryers may well be one of the more callous members of the community. Bryers is almost never seen without a silver flask he carries inside his coat pocket but his drinking habits goes far beyond the odd swig to warm up or a glass after a hard day's work, Bryers' is typically intoxicated, high, or simply hungover a good 90% of the time. Michael is skeptical at best on Christianity and more or less pockets most, if not all, of the collection money and charity drive funds, the one good thing to be said about Michael in this regard is that he never sees himself as a good or "holy" person but he is claimed by so many vices its hard to keep track and somehow twists the notion that, because he knows he is a piece of shit that somehow makes him better than everyone else who doesn't know they're a piece of shit. Considering his status as a "pure" reverend it's ludicrously easy for Bryers to pull half the shit that he does which really only serves to fuel his indifferent, borderline sociopathic disregard for himself and others.

About the one good thing Bryers does is occasionally let Filthy Frank sleep in front of the Church's door or on a half broken Emergency Cot, but he does this pretty much in exchange for hard drugs or stolen liquor. Go figure.

---

"Big Mike" Bryers - Father

Michael's only (living(that he knows of)) relative. "Big Mike" is sort of a source of legend for schoolchildren considering he spends his days confined in a wheelchair hurling conspiracy theories about the blacks, the gays, the mexicans, the asians and more or less any minority groups, it's regarded as fact that he has a shotgun hidden under the blanket on his lap at all times, though this has never been proven.

[Closed]

---

---

*BZZRRRRRRTTTTT*

"Good morning once again people of Farmer's Hill! For those just joining us we're looking at relatively clear skies and an open road, that said if you are just joining us you're gonna want to phone in to your boss because it's ten pm and you're gonna be late! late! la-"

Peter's hand clumsily shot from under the covers as he tried to turn off his alarm clock, his precise movements only serving to knock it clean off his bedside table along with several unopened books on musical theory. He let out a drawn out groan.

"Now for all you outdoors types; well, you can expect standard September weather with temperatures dropping tonight at around-"

Forced to leave his mess of pillows and a half covered duvet Peter finally silenced the offending machine with a less than gentle slam of his fist onto the off button. He sat down with his back resting against his bed and sighed as he rubbed his arm across his eyes. He'd really tried to get on schedule to be ready for today but things had not been going so well in that department,

Regardless there was no time like the present as Peter pulled out some clean clothes from his wardrobe and picked up his bag which he'd had the foresight to pack last night, not that it took much work, Peter was poor and not prone to adventure trips or search parties. The grand total of his inventory added up to a small flask of water, a bottle of his medication. a wool hat and a single pencil. Properly outfitted and his bag slung across his shoulder, Peter gave his frazzled self a once over in his bathroom before leaving the dormitory and out into the open street.

This was why he'd set the clock for a later start.

Gripping tightly on the strap of his bag and standing still for what felt like an eternity Peter in his mind began plotting the route towards the mountain range. Then he ran.

Though everything seemed to be passing by in a blur Pete was able to make out the vague shape of stores and people as they darted right past his field of vision, before the quaint town gave way to the forest, then the torn open fence before finally coming across the ragtag group on the hunt for Cindy Keagen.

Though he reached the spot in what felt like a minute Peter still had trouble stopping from such speeds, transitioning to little hops with his feet before scrambling to hold on to a branch for a complete stop Peter got a good look at his abstraction, winding down from a vibrant blue glow into a more relaxed and neutral state. The frenzy haired teen then approached the rest of the new age breakfast club, catching his breath as he waved them down.

"Sorry I'm late" he said, cursing his choice of converse shoes on the dirt path "My alarm never went off."

He arrived just as Madeline offered a weapon to the rest, to which Peter shook his head in response, he was hardly experienced with firearms and frankly didn't really see the point. He'd been filled in on what Scott was now and if they did run into him it was probably a safe bet that, just like in movies, bullets wouldn't do much against him. Peter looked around and noted the absence of Dex which also probably meant the absence of Ryu

"We seem to be missing a few" he said to no one in particular.

[Closed]

---

---

“He’s… an awakened.”

With a startled snort, Peter Grey awoke, his eyes snapping open as the daylight dripping through the half closed shutter immediately assaulted his eyes.

Letting out a pained sigh Peter made a halfhearted attempt to sit up as he took note of his surroundings. His bed was bare with the cover laid out on the floor and his room was its usual state with clothes littering the dressers and carpet along with the lamp missing its shade and a whole treasure trove of crap clogging up his wardrobe, so long as he didn’t break anything the academy owned he didn’t have to pay anything back on his dorm room. That didn’t mean he couldn’t leave it looking like ground zero though.

Peter rubbed his eyes once more and blinked twice.

’That dream…

He’d been having these weird moments on and off for a while, bouts of paranoia or gnawing feelings that seemed to claw up against the back of his head. But frankly all of that was the least of his worries, Peter had powers, as in honest to god “The-Human-Body-Is-Physically-Incapable-Of-That” powers.

After Hagan left Peter made good on his idea and opened up any exits he could find, which wasn’t much as by the time he and Hagan had finished arguing people had either broken through themselves or simply hadn’t made it. Even still Peter loitered around the Mill for some time after. He didn’t see anyone leave.

Eventually, as is custom when calling them, the police showed up, most attending to the student who had simply broken down and cried in the middle of the road, Peter had passed a few on his way, a few were either cased in soot, or blood. Peter tried his best not to make eye contact with them. Not wanting to be one of the few coherent enough for the laundry list of questions they’d have for him after an ordeal like this, Pete fled through the woods. His speed picked up and yet another nasty crash into the foliage awaited him.

’What the hell is happening to me… Peter remembered thinking as a small smile escaped from his lips before going back to exhaustion. Finally, he stood up and got off his bed, shambling towards his bathroom where he stared at his disheveled face in the mirror.

Grunting in frustration Petere focused on his eyes as the bags underneath them would be quite difficult to conceal, he considered wearing shades before shaking his head and deciding to just bare with it for the time being. He opened up the door to the medicine cabinet and thankfully the mirror the rested on the front disappeared. Peter pulled out a small white bottle and shook out two pills onto his open hand, he quickly threw them into his mouth and swallowed immediately with a slight cough, the pills were tasteless but they never went down easy.

As he walked back into his room Peter took the time to look down at the new “tattoo” he’d acquired, chances were his mom would kill him if she knew about it and the rest of his family already thought he was some kind of punk so Peter had been hoping it might just go away by itself but as currently proven, no such luck. With a frown he took a wristband off the top of his dresser and slid it over the offending symbol, then moved on to trying to scrounge up some clean clothes from the less cluttered side of his wardrobe.

As Peter slid on his shoes he buried his face into his hands and let out a yawn, It’d been a week since that massacre and the way it seemed to weigh everyone, Peter included, had been exhausting. That seemed to be the thing with tragedies like that, it seems to be all everyone wants to talk about but most can never find the words, when they do it’s either to callously gossip or it just comes across as something akin to talking about the weather.

’Man fuck this. Peter said rubbing his eyes. He’d been training his new “gift” of speed when he could at the abandoned fields but it was exhausting work, he was hardly going to start studying so if he wanted to do something worthwhile with his time he needed to perk up. He needed caffeine. Well, that or cocaine but Pete wasn’t really into that scene.

---

Cafe la Sucre.

---

The sun was still more or less out and pissing Peter off as he shuffled ungracefully towards the cafe. He still looked messy and unkempt but tidied himself up enough where it wasn’t really too dissimilar to how he normally appeared, that said his tiredness was making it quite difficult to put on the air of casual happiness that he usually presented himself with, the last thing he wanted was have someone corner him on if he was feeling okay.

As he neared the establishment Peter was sure he’d seen Hagan, whether he was right or not was irrelevant, just the possibility brought a frown to his face and he kept his eyes straight. Hagan had always been a bully and a pain in the ass but Peter had never had any issues with him, the night at the mill however had soured any sympathy or positivity Peter had felt towards him. It was most likely projection for how useless himself Peter had felt in that incident but he was hardly going to act like Hagan was anything more than a stranger to him.

Peter closed towards the entrance and came across Samson with Claire not too far behind, he swore slightly under his breath, he didn’t know either very well, more or less by reputation alone but he himself was aware reputations are typically bullshit. Still he wasn’t really in the mood to risk any stilted conversations, he kept his head down and averted both of their gazes. As he did so however Peter was sure he saw or felt something. Something not exactly normal. Regardless he made it to the entrance of the cafe safe and sound.

With a jingle from the door he entered and the faint smell of coffee from outside turned into a full on battery. Peter wasn’t really much of a drinker but something about the smell was really off putting, even still he braved the bitter aroma and made his way towards the counter, as he did so he found himself next to Dexter, someone else he knew only slightly well. He’d seen him and Ryu together a lot so was surprised to find himself alone, while they’d never shared much conversation Dex had always struck Peter as a pretty nice guy who tended to be well liked with a sizeable group of friends so it mildly surprised Peter to find him alone at a cafe.

’Maybe he’d been with Samson and Claire he figured and waited his turn behind Dexter, hoping the line would go quickly so he could stop looking like a Dawn Of The Dead extra.

[Closed]

---

---

The look in Hagan's eyes told Peter right off the bat there was about to be some kind of scrap between them, not that Peter would enjoy that but he decided right then and there that chivalry was dead so he'd hit this big roid monkey below the belt immediately, then came a halt to the music and a piercing scream. Rushing right by Peter, Hagan charged back to the entrance to see what was going on, typically screams of terror weren't commonplace at a party and the crew Hagan had been harassing seemed to have dispersed, so Peter figured he might as well follow.

"Dude what's...." There were no words he could formulate to follow up that sentence as Peter came face to face with the devastation inside, he barely even registered the frantic partygoers pushing past him and screaming for help. He'd seen deaths and even bodies on TV sure but to see blood splattered across the wall and dripping slowly onto the floor, seeing the flames dance before his very eyes, that was something else entirely. The second his faculties came back to him Peter then saw Hagan below him, in a heap of despair, it honestly suprised Peter to some degree, he'd figure a guy like Hagan would be the first one to bail, none the less there was someone creating an ever climbing number of homicides in the mill and the two of them were lingering at the entrance in the open.

"HAGAN MAN WE GOTTA GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE, GET THE FUCK UP!" Peter yelled as he tried to grab Hagan by his arm and pull him back.

"Fuck that man!" Hagan answered. "I.. I gotta - I got friends gettin' slaughtered in there!" He pushed Peter away with his superior strength as he decided to jump into action, and go after this crazy fuck.

"Getting yourself killed isn't gonna help anyone ya fuckin moron!" Peter yelled back as he ran back towards Hagan "We gotta get the fuckin cops and the fire department down here! Now let's go!" He was met with an elbow as Hagan desperately tried to go in there and help him.

Frustration wasn't really the word for it, Peter couldn't exactly save everyone but he wasn't going to leave Hagan to get himself burned alive or cut up by some psycho.

"Dammit! I. Said. MOVE!" grabbing a handful of Hagan's vest and putting a hand on his chest, Peter began running, and in a sudden and incredibly jarring moment Peter and Hagan flew backwards out the door in a speed far too dangerous for a sudden jolt and almost certainly impossible for a regular human to reach.

The speed the two went at didn't last long as they both ungracefully fell in a heap, bouncing painfully on the ground as they did so, Peter rolled uncomfortably onto the hard road a few ways away from the mill, the place was still in sight however, along with the embers of the fire and the screams of those still inside. Pete attempted to get back to his feet and gripped onto his arm.

"F- fuck, what-" he looked down at his arm and saw a strange tribal like tattoo snaking its way around his wrist, he squinted his eyes and peered closer "the fuck..." he whispered painfully to himself.

"What in the fuck just happened!?" Hagan loudly shouted as he picked himself up. He had a few bruises and scrapes, but nothing that really impaired him. What did impair him was the fact that they fucking teleported. Went through warp speed like this was fuckin' Star Trek! It felt like he was dragged off.

Peter stared at him wide eyed, only just now realizing he'd brought a passenger with him. He held out his hands "Man, I swear to god I have no fuckin' idea!" He looked back towards the mill.

"We can... We can worry about this shit later, call the cops or at least call the fire Marshall, there's still people inside!" he added with sudden concern, realizing the situation they were still in.

"I.." Hagan was tempted to go back, but it was far too late. By the time he got there... he saw how foolish he was acting. "Well, get off your ass, Peter, we gotta call somebody!" He snarked.

Almost dumbfounded Peter stared at Hagan and gave a snort of exasperation, he pulled out his phone and began dialing the emergency number. "The fuck are we gonna tell 'em..." he said aloud as he pressed the ringer.

"Tell him that there was a stabbing or something! I don't know!" Hagan said, annoyed as he grasped his face out of shock.

"Good evening sir, please state your emergency" a cheerful voice came over the speaker, immediately cut off by the quickness of Peter's reply.

"We need you to bring a squad car, bring the fire Marshall too, there's... There's been a stabbing, there's people dead or- or dying, I don't know, the old mill is burning and I think there might still be some people trapped in there!" Peter said as if the desperation in his voice would somehow prompt a quicker reply.

"Sir, is this a prank call?"

"DO I SOUND LIKE I'M FUCKING JOKING" He yelled with uncharacteristic anger in his voice.

"Alright sir please remain calm, we're dispatching a car your way now..." And then there was a sudden click, Pete honestly couldn't tell if he'd just been snubbed or not, at least they'd be obligated to check the scene out, but would they deal with the fire in time?

"We...." Peter trailed off as he stared at the destruction of the formerly lively party, "Is there like, a hose or something we can use to try put of the fire? shit man the idiots back in town might not get here fast enough." he said with more than some annoyance in his voice.

"Don't you know where we are?" Hagan asked, "We're past the fence - there's nothing up here except for trees." He said.

"Of course I know where we are!" Peter shout angrily "But, fuck man, there's gotta- there's gotta be SOMETHIN' we can do, that fire's still burning and people are stuck in there with some psychotic murderer!" even saying that out loud made Peter feel like he was in some high stakes drama instead of a usually boring farm town.

At this point Hagan got into Peter's face, and spat out,

"There was something we could do," He started off, "But the universe said no."

"What!?" Peter fired back, matching Hagan's annoyance "Run in and get yourself set on fire or cut in half great plan dumbass! We gotta be smart or else the only people we'll fucking help are the funeral directors! Maybe- Maybe we can try open up some of the exits and get out anyone who's trapped that way?" he added, attempting to force some sense of calmness into this otherwise foreign rage and worry he'd been feeling at present, going overboard wasn't helping any more than Hagan's bravado.

Hagan sighed as he put his hands in his pockets, and turned away. Walking off with an apathetic look on his face... "Forget about it, man." He said. "There's nothing we can do..." He said with a sigh as he walked up the road.

"Hagan!" Peter yelled, for a moment he considered trying to talk him back but he glanced back at the raging inferno inside the mill and frowned. "Fine! Even I know runnin' away from this ain't your style, but hell, you go right on ahead. I'm sure this decision won't haunt you man." He said with a slight air of disappointment.

Hagan will remember this...

Peter began jogging back towards the mill, careful not have a repeat of whatever the fuck cause him and Hagan to fly several feet back from the front door. Even though in his mind Peter felt that forcing open the rest of the exits probably wouldn't do much it still felt a damn sight better than just walking away, but even then he doubted the intelligence behind his plan, the dangers and risks were ridiculously high, despite that however Peter took one more glance back up at the approaching mill.

'It doesn't matter...' he thought to himself as he bottled up any feelings of fear or doubt.

[Closed]

buying gf

[Closed]

<Snipped quote by Drag>

can you what

@Odin

friendzoned again :/

[Closed]

@Surtr stop sending random people into my discord

@Odin

can i?

[Closed]

F

[Closed]

---

_@Surtr

---

The party had, for lack of a better word, thrown the nature side of the woods pretty off balance. The typical noises of animals around this time of night had gone quiet on account of the sheer ear bending noise the lumber mill was making. On the outskirts however there was an uncertain peace, the drums didn’t pound quite as hard here and the screeches of a vocalist didn’t seem to travel quite this far, the odd bird chirping or frog croaking could be faintly heard every now and again, as the woods seemingly began to once more come to life.

“I CLOSED MY EEEEEEYES AND I SLIPPED AWAAAAAAAAAAAY!!”

In an instant the frogs dipped back underwater and the birds erupted from the trees as Peter Grey air guitared his way down the dirt path, kicking up twigs and bits of earth as he glided by with all the grace of a bull in a meth lab or however that saying went. Peter began jumping up and down like a schizoid as he imagined the big finish of his, assuredly, amazing live performance.

“IT’S MORE THAN A FEEEELIN! I BEGIN DREAMIN’

MORE THAN A FEEEEEELIN’!”

In an instant, a pirouette too far perhaps, Pete looked around and learned quite quickly he was lost. He was already late so getting there fast wasn’t high on his priority list but he’d been too, far too, engrossed in his music and seemed to have gone off the dirt path. Considering he didn’t spend much of his time out in the woods of Farmer’s Hill this presented a pretty big issue, slightly Peter began to panic. He put a hand in his pocket to reach for his phone as he pulled off his headphones.

In an instant Peter’s expression turned to annoyance as he gave out an irritated grunt and took his hand out of his pocket.

He could hear, quite well, just how loud the music had truly gotten, if anything it felt like he was standing right outside the lumber mill. Letting his headphones rest around his neck and placing his hands in his pockets Pete followed the sounds and made his way to the mill.

============================

Barely, and I really do mean barely, Peter managed to squeeze through a gap in the chain link fence, finally getting a full view of the mill. The music was, obviously, at it’s loudest here but Pete didn’t mind, it’s something you got used to fairly quick with parties provided you didn’t stand next to speakers.He took stock of the place and began looking for the ever elusive “second party” that pretty much always happened at these affairs, pretty often Pete would get let in but not everyone was cool with a “J” so there’d been times he was forced to finish outside in the dead of winter, not fun.

Passing through some stragglers outside and giving the odd vague smile or wave of recognition Peter approached what he was sure was the entrance to the veritable nirvana, oddly enough though there wasn’t any gorilla or congregation of gorillas standing all tough like in front of it. Not that Peter was disappointed at the lack of large angry men but there was usually a certain rhythm to these little soirees that made the difference all the more noticeable.

As if to answer his confusion Pete was treated to the growing volume of someone yelling on the other side of the mill, while he couldn’t make out most of the tirade Peter did manage to hear the word faggot, meaning either a hate crime was transpiring or a British person was greatly unhappy with their cigarette. Against his better judgement Peter, reluctantly, walked away from the VIP entrance and followed the pleasing rant.

As he rounded the corner Peter saw Hagan lifting some guy by the scruff of his neck and screaming in his face, Peter made out two girls behind them witnessing the whole affair but he didn’t pay them as much mind, Hagan was quite clearly stealing the show at present.

Breaking into a half jog Peter got closer and closer to the group. He’d only spoken to Hagan a handful of times, he was pretty sure they’d shared a joint once but they were hardly bro’s, even still he tried his best to diffuse the situation before it got even more out of hand. As he neared the group Peter noticed a cane strewn across the ground next to the guy Hagan was manhandling, he cringed as he put two and two together.

“Hagan, man chill out. Whatever’s goin’ on we can just all go back to the party and get loaded instead of standin’ out here freezin’ our asses off.” Not exactly the most charismatic of diffusals but Pete at least hoped the allure of alcohol might worm a bit of rationale into the brain of Hagan and the others that the only thing that whatever was happening here wasn't as important as (mostly) underage drinking and substance abuse.

[Closed]

Peter Grey

╚══════════════╝

"International man of many mysteries."

[ Age (19) | Height (5’11ft) | American/Canadian Pronouns (He/Him) | Weight (163lb) ]

[Impatience]

APPEARANCE

"Just your average puckish rogue."

Peter’s skin is slightly paler than average, owing to the fact that he doesn’t really spend much of his time outside “towin the fields” like a lot of the more active locals, even then he’s more of a night person. Peter’s hair is typically wild and unkempt, curling usually around the sides and backs which suits his laid back personality but makes him appear like even more of stoner which doesn’t tend to endear itself to the populace.

Peter has an odd sense of style, best described as casually weird. He typically wears regular jeans but couples it with a pair of silver converse sneakers that he likes to keep at a clean shine. Peter also showcases his fanboyism of eighties rock by wearing band shirts on an almost constant basis, RUSH, Pink Floyd, Judas Priest etc. Though he will occasionally sport a shirt or accessory from something of this era, he also commonly wears a plaid flannel shirt with the buttons undone over his tees. Lastly Peter never leaves home without his walkman (yes, seriously) clipped to his waist and the headphones resting around his neck.

PSYCHOLOGY

"I’m like an onion, except there’s, only… er, Good… Stuff, you know what screw the whole analogy"

MAIN GOAL ⫻ A lot of Peter’s issues come from the fact that he himself isn’t sure what he wants out of life. At his most basic Peter just wants to be content or at the very least secure, if nothing else the feeling and comfort of stability is all he really wants.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Peter outwardly practices and preaches a very “live in the moment” lifestyle, espousing the Buddhist philosophy that nothing lasts forever so enjoy everything while you can. Whilst this is in part something of a coping mechanism he does approach most everything in life with an open mind and a carefree attitude.

SECRETS ⫻ Peter is on a fair amount of medications most solely to help him with concentration but he also is secretly on anti-depressants, something that he feels deeply embarrassed and ashamed about, so much so that he hasn’t sought any outside help or even told his mother, to him it’s something he feels sharing will only worsen how he feels.

DESIRES ⫻ Validation is high on Peter’s list of desires but his demeanour is not all a facade, he does genuinely enjoy relaxing and enjoying the little things in life, which currently happen to be music and weed.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Straight though Peter feels quite secure in his sexuality and will readily point out whether he finds someone attractive, regardless of their gender.

FEARS ⫻ Rejection and irrelevancy are perhaps the main fears that permeate Peter’s thoughts, owing mostly to his history, or lack thereof, with his father and family or to his feelings of being trapped in Montana. Unrelated but he’s also not much for heights

REPUTATION ⫻ Whilst Peter’s reputation isn’t exactly hostile he’s not very well respected, his appearance, attitude and overall demeanour lead most of the townsfolk and even some of his peers to write him off as a delinquent stoner, his typically poor grades don’t really do much to help dissuade them from this view. Those that get to know him however tend to find him likeable enough due to his easygoing nature.

PET PEEVES ⫻ Tediousness and really, boring people in general, Peter struggles in school as it is with how trapped he feels listening to seemingly endless lectures, conversations that drag on and on feels like torture to Peter. He also is not a fan of someone taking his headphones off forcibly.

QUIRKS ⫻ Apart from generally having his hands in his pockets Peter usually places a surprising amount of things behind his ear, toothpicks, pencils, even a joint, which once led to a particularly painful moment where he’d forgotten it was lit.

BACKSTORY

"Don’t matter where I’ve been, only care about where I’m goin’"

Peter’s mother Amanda Grey was a former member of Farmer’s Hill, born to a middle class family, life was normal if not aggressively mundane, when she reached her twenties Amanda made the (oft criticized by her family) decision to move away from the monotony of rural life and sought excitement abroad, though the furthest she ever got was Montreal. While there Amanda took a job as an office cleaner which is where she met Michael Benson during an embarrassing incident where he’d went to the bathroom during closing hours and was left locked in, through this wondrous encounter to surely tell the kids about, the two began dating. Eventually Amanda moved into his apartment where the two would “enjoy each other’s company” for about three months before learning would have an out of wedlock bundle of joy on the way.

After Peter was born their relationship quickly became strained, turning out a quick fling leading into a move-in leading into a child was hardly the best relationship plan. After two years the locks on the apartment changed and Amanda was left far away from home with nowhere to lay her head or her child’s, Amanda very quickly let her dreams of freewheeling die out in order to take care of her child. When she returned (through a plane ticket paid for by her family) she was not greeted with a warm welcome, particularly on account of her returning home with a bastard in tow. Through gritted teeth they allowed their daughter back into their home simply on account of how little money she had to support a child but they never particularly kind or welcoming towards Amanda or her son.

With frequently working long hours Peter rarely saw his mother growing up and was regularly left in the care of his indifferent relatives who didn’t take kindly as his attention and desire to do well in school slipped along with his grades, quite regularly criticising his mother on how he was raised and quite often pushing for medication to help his grades improve. What little attentiveness and passion Peter had slipped away as he barely finished high school, his mother hoping to help him gain inspiration away from his family insisted he enrol at Grand Ridge to do music.

Away from his family and living in the dormitories, Peter’s disposistion, outwardly, improved but inwardly he developed an almost nihilistic view on Farmer Hill and life in general, finding no real passion or motivation in much and being relatively uncaring of the goings on, generally just getting high and coming across as more laid back to put much stock in anything.

Though he has started to try more and better his mental state, what little optimism Peter has had for his future is slowly but surely losing ground.

SKILLS & TALENTS

”That’s right, there’s more beneath this burning hunk of love. Not much, but more."

Bass Guitar ⫻ Though mostly a hobby Peter has practised enough with bass to actually be quite good at it, even if he routinely knocks it as being impossible to be bad at, he’s at least decent enough to copy the basslines from most of his favourite songs, and the bassline from Final Fantasy 2.

Useless Pop Trivia ⫻ More something he’s proud of, Peter knows quite a lot of factoids about seemingly random or inconsequential shit, owing most likely to a lifetime of procrastination.

Computers and IT ⫻ Surprisingly, Peter is at least competent with computers, pretty much due to how often his cheap one breaks down or encounters some sort of bug. Whilst he’s hardly a whizz he knows enough to operate and fix a machine if he really has to.

ABSTRACTION

"Now ya see me..."

SIGIL & LOCATION ⫻ Two bolts of lightning above his right wrist and travelling halfway up his arm.

ABSTRACTION ⫻ Enhanced Speed and reflex

ABSTRACTION DESCRIPTION ⫻ Peter is able to run at superhuman speeds, while hardly The Flash he is able to go faster than the human eye is able to process, while running his reflexes heighten, insofar in that he gains enough wherewithal to make sure he doesn’t smack into anything or trip over loose ground, though he can still be knocked off balance from forces beyond his control.

Peter’s body can only withstand so much however so he himself isn’t quite sure how fast he can reasonably reach, the closer he gets to Mount Ever Reaching however the faster he is able to go at a shorter rate of time. When in the presence of other abstracts however he feels a sort of mental block on how fast he is able to go, needing to prioritize more quick bursts than long stretches, he also seems to tire quicker when around other abstracts. At a far distance from the mountain Peter is able to run up to around 100kmh, just fast enough to run across the surface of water, this speed decreasing the further he gets from the mountain.

Peter’s abstract stems from his desire to feel free and unbound by the norms or grim realities he believes await him in his future, ironically, his speed is much like a drug in that it is in reality nothing more than fantastical escapism.

IN THE PRESENCE OF THE MOUNTAIN ⫻ Mount Ever Reaching seems to gradually “unlock” faster speeds Peter can go, the longer he spends running in its presence the quicker he can become, if he spends long enough running next to The Mountain he can move so quickly that time slows to a sheer crawl around him, however going at these speeds carries a great deal of risk, though Peter’s body adapts to withstand the pressure and he seems to carry more energy than usual, going this fast can very easily have Peter pass out from the sheer exhaustion or even be unable to withstand the force any longer if he doesn't pace himself.

AURA SENSING ⫻ Peter feels the general impatience of others, a feeling that is greatly unpleasant for someone who didn’t carry much patience around to begin with, in a radius of about 15 metres Peter can feel a gnawing burn in the back of his skull as the general impatience or irritation of others worms its way into his mind.

LIMITS ⫻ Peter may have access to high speeds, but the problem he faces is maneuverability. He may be able to turn quite well at lower speeds, but his higher speeds his turning power slows to an absolute crawl. He may slam face first into a wall if he isn't being careful. Especially when around other Awakened.

WEAKNESSES ⫻ Accessing his speed also speeds up his other aspects. Mostly his perception of the world, and how it looks and sounds. Meaning, he sees and hears faster than other people while speeding - which lends to his speech. It'll be nigh impossible for Peter to communicate while speeding. Everything will be slow gibberish to him, and everything else will be far too fast for him to possibly hear. Other bodily functions will also speed up like his bloodflow/heart rate, and if he isn't careful, he may have a heart attack. In addition, he'll build up friction from moving, and eventually his body heat will go through the roof from all the movement.

OTHER

"Carry on my wayward son"

nathin’