False Prophet

Animalia - REBOOTED

starter down!

if anybody wants to interact, ping me lol. For now I'm heading to bed

Animalia - REBOOTED

Pascal "Dolly" Harper

Location: Apartment -> City streets -> Approaching Subway
Mentions: None
Interactions: Open

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The mouse had been up for an hour already, anxiously waiting with his phone clutched between his paws. Today, he and his friend had planned to take a tour of Eukary University some time in the morning. After all, they’d both applied (and were accepted) into the next semester. The news refreshed Dolly’s moxie, as he now walked with the pep in his step that initially vanished years ago. Sometimes he’d clutch the letter and delightfully squeak into his pillow. It was a nice change of pace. Just last year, he would’ve seen going to university as one of those impossibilities of his life. Now he had an actual shot at leaving this hellhole.

His apartment- well, it wasn’t really his. He was only one of the roommates, and the place certainly had character… Chipped paint, busted door knobs, squeaky floorboard. The whole shabang! Sure, it wasn’t the Ritz, but it sure as hell beat couch-surfing after kicking himself out of his ex boyfriend’s place. Ugh, what a creep. Dolly hopped out of his bed and onto said squeaky floorboards. They didn’t creak nearly as much for him due to his sheer lack of stature. Like the saying went, quiet as a mouse. He padded to a dresser, eyes still glued to his phone while his nose twitched in anticipation. He’d just received a message saying that they should meet up at one of the coffee shops on campus. He responded with an enthusiastic “sounds perfect :3”.

Dolly pulled on a mint colored sweater. His wardrobe consisted mostly of pastels since they went well with his white fur. He was never one for over the top patterns, though. It was a smidge big on him, but her slightly baggy look was part of his aesthetic at this point. Finding clothes that fit snugly were a rarity unless he shopped in the kid’s section. He found that stuff rarely fit his style. After changing into actual clothes, the mouse carefully squeezed out of his room and into the hallway. Truly, his room was less of a living space and more of an oversized closet remodeled to fit a small animal. Rent was cheaper for him, at least.

Tip-toeing down the hall to avoid waking his two other roommates up, Dolly hurried towards the bathroom door. He decided against breakfast since he was going to a cafe with a friend. Wow, he was actually going to hang out with somebody- and what made it better that it wasn’t at a bar! He was tired of getting shitfaced at two in the morning. It was expensive. He’d actually put in an effort to establish a somewhat coherent sleeping schedule. He was going to need one for school, after all. The mouse vanished inside of the bathroom. It certainly was not built for his size and the light buzzed a bit too loudly, but he could manage. He hopped to grab his toothbrush from by the sink. It was pink and had some cartoon characters on it. Kid’s toothbrush from the corner store down the street- but hey, it worked.

Dolly was successfully out the door in ten minutes. Now was the hardest part of his journey, which was catching the fuckin’ train. He was used to living his life by speed-walking, so rushing was nothing he wasn’t used to. He just had to be careful to not get him or his tail stepped on. It was disproportionally long for a guy his size. He’d made a habit of carrying it when he ran. He also made a habit of walking closer to the inside of the sidewalks. Though traffic in New York was notoriously slow, he felt safer when he was farthest from the roads. One wrong shove and he could be standing in the middle of the street. Getting run over was something he generally tried to avoid when rushing to subway stations.

Thought Conglomerate

Content Warning: suicidal ideation, brief mentions and implications of sexual assault, general mental instability, violence

Author's Note: My characters are just that- characters. I don't condone murder, grooming, etc. This is me exploring the concept of evil through an unreliable and twisted protagonist. His views and actions are not my own. For the sake of my own boundaries, Seraphim was never a legal minor during the events discussed unless specified. This does not justify Auburn's actions, and he is a euphemism for authority figures who take advantage of others. Seraph is a metaphor for the naive, regardless of background. Inaccuracies and inconsistencies (for the most part) are intentional. The church, though themed off of Catholicism, is not actually Catholic. It has its own names and set of rules that will be revealed in due time. The setting is the Southwestern United States some anywhere between 1850-1950. Time is less rigid here.

A continuation of HELLO AUBURN: roleplayerguild.com/posts/5334530

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Oh God, what have I done?

I used to be a good priest. I never smoked and I never drank. I didn’t start swearing until now. As if any of that matters anymore. I’ve been ousted from my position by my own brother, who I am sure is not my brother anymore. Life is unnecessarily cruel. My name is Auburn. Three months ago, my life was perfect. I had just found the love of my life. Twilight in the desert… I can recall it as if it were a fresh dream. Vivid, but just out of touch. How I wish I could grab that memory again.

What was I doing there? Sitting beneath a willow tree with a young woman on my lap. The stars above reminded me of staring eyes, twinkling and blinking. Ogling at us, two people who should not have been together. My heart was torn. This was wrong, I had a wife I cared for dearly, but her...my dear Seraph. Whenever I looked at her, I just wanted to hold and protect her. I wanted to make her smile. When she was with me, I felt safe. I hope she felt the same.

She felt something for me, I knew that. Perhaps for worse, she assured me. With her soft, sweet lips, she kissed mine. I don’t know why. I don’t know why she loved me, or why I loved her despite everything. This was a sin. I was going to go to hell, where Satan's cruel laughter would haunt me forever. I’m such a fool. This was an awful idea, yet it was all I wanted. I tried to hide the fact that my hands shook as I undid her blouse.

She asked me if this was a sin. It was, I knew it was. This was an insult to my priesthood, my family- everything...but I did not have the heart to tell her that. A god that saw a harmless act of intimacy as something to be ashamed of was not one I could follow. I don't think I've ever loved anybody like I loved her. Still, I knew the truth would scare her. I lied. I shook my head and told her the Lord would always forgive her, and that falling in love was natural, not a sin. It was a lie, but I think she believed me. She was so trusting like that, never doubting anything I ever said.

Sex before marriage. Sex while married to another. Sex while a member of the clergy. We broke so many rules together. Underneath that willow tree I committed so many traitorous acts, it was disgusting. I have been told that I was disgusting for doing it. Maybe so. But I couldn't help myself around her. Precious thing… She was a virgin, destined to be until she found a man to wed and bear his children. I was not to be that man. I had a wife whom I married and bonded with before taking my title of priesthood. I would be lying if I said I maintained celibacy after the fact. Even before Seraph, I had been a lying, degenerate sinner. Perhaps that is why I so easily fell into temptation.

I am impure. Very impure. Our goal at the cathedral was to maintain purity in order to enter heaven. Nobody was, though. Nobody except my dear Seraph, at least until she found me. She was beautiful, kind, and so, so gentle. I remember the feeling of her resting her head against my shoulder. She was so soft; I was in pure bliss while corrupting her. I was reckless, so very reckless. But isn’t that the nature of love? For you, my lovely Seraph, I would do anything. This was something I realized beneath the blooms of the desert willow where we first truly met.

Though that time beneath the willow tree was our first, it would not be our last. She would proclaim her love to me often, even if she’d sob afterwards. Poor girl. She’d weep into her hands about how we could never truly be together. The church. Her father. My wife. The All Father. Everything held us back. Perhaps it was a sign to give up- to repent. But I think I was too secular to do that, I still am. Even though she is dead and hates me, I love her. I cannot stop loving her. She occupies my thoughts and I shed tears at night. I miss her! I am entirely alone now.

Come back, Seraphim, please- come back to me. I regret hurting you! I miss you and I love you. What I did was a terrible mistake, and you were forsaken… But you’re alive and well now, I do not know how, but it is both a blessing and a miracle. We can elope together! I will go back to that wretched place to retrieve you so that maybe…we can finally live in peace, together. Not with God, the church, or Satan himself telling us what to do. I can keep you safe from them I know how. I can rid them from our lives once and for all. I now know what I must do to save you, Seraphim…

In my time I have learned that gods, demons, and angels are one and the same. Primordial forces that predate human existence by an unfathomable amount. I don’t think I will ever understand their true natures, or why they plague my dreams…or plague poor Seraph with eternal torture. Enigmatic, but in a loathsome sense. When she died, I haven’t been able to look up at an angel with wonder ever since. I can’t understand them and sometimes they scare me, but they fear me just as much.

I’ve killed an angel before. Twice actually. First, it was my dear Seraphim. True angel or not, she was beauty and love personified. I placed my wretched hands to her neck and held her down until she stopped moving. I don’t know why I did this. For several days beforehand there had been inexplicable chatter in my head. Whispers, songs, chanting- all in a language I had never heard before. I thought I was going mad until a beast spoke to me at the altar. I don’t remember what it looked like aside from its pure white eyes. They were pools of radiance. Those eyes told me I had to take the life of my beloved.

My respect for the divine at that time- and even now, is low. But as I said, I fear them. I feared them much more at the beginning, too. Angel, demon, or maybe God himself? The semantics are unimportant, as they are all sides of the same construct. It only introduced itself as an angel, and every night it would whisper into my ear and tell me to kill Seraphim. She was to, according to this beast, birth a monster into this world. The consequences of our actions. A creature that would burn the cathedral’s holy walls to the ground with the power of the Devil. And for that, I was tasked with smiting it.

I dreamt of ash and smoke. I woke up with the taste of cinders clinging to my tongue. I drank water and kissed the lips of Seraph to wash it away, but brimstone has a vile aftertaste. The chatter grew louder the more I drank. I, still holding onto the idea that I was a servant of the Lord, did what I was told. I was and am a fool. I know now that was a lie. Seraph never carried a child. I strangled a beautiful girl all so she could become the very creature that angel prophesied to me about. The idea that Seraphim was pregnant with Armageddon itself was purely figurative. She carried hell, or the potential for it, like a mother with a fetus. Still, it did not literally rest within her womb. I only buried one body beneath the willow tree that night. The place where this alleged monster was conceived. And it was, but not those months ago.

It was not long after I killed my second angel. I feel rage, as I am human. Venomous hatred has seeped into the very core of my being. If the Lord, if he even cared to look down upon us, granted me the ability to smite- I was going to use it. I made it my quest to hunt White-eyed beast of half-truths and false promises… How does one kill a literal angel? The easiest way would be to be another angel, or god himself. I am no angel. I’m not even good enough to rise as a saint. My bones will rot in the dirt, and my soul will most likely…well, I hope it finds a place to rot, too. That is to say if souls even exist.

I have been questioning a lot lately. I question if hell even exists. The nature of the holy and unholy is unintelligible. If I am honest, I am more at peace with the concept of ceasing to exist after death than the idea of an afterlife. I doubt I am worthy of one, anyway. I am a tired man. Part of me yearns for eternal slumber. The only thing that anchors me to this physical world is Seraph. Her and only her. If it wasn’t for her talons gripping onto my heart, I would’ve taken the revolver I keep by my bedside and put the barrel to my head already.

The tragedy of Seraph’s demise proved nothing about the existence of hell because I know it was demons that brought her back. She never spoke of it, though. When she rose from the grave like Christ from his tomb, I wanted to know why and where she’d been. She…was not keen on speaking to me. Poor thing. I’d never seen her look so terrified of me before. I don’t want her to look at me ever again. That is why I must save her.

Angels and demons can be killed with magic. Maybe God as well, if he isn’t dead already. At this point, all three of them are indistinguishable. Synonyms of words that lack any true meaning anymore. I digress. My first step in returning Seraph back to me was killing Demon Eyes. The damn beast lied to me! It told me that Seraph carried the Antichrist. I was such a fool. I do not know the intricacies of Enochian magic, but it used it to revive her with a crown made of desert willow. It turned her into the harbinger of the apocalypse. I swear I'll burn that tree down when I return! I may as well set the entire church ablaze… My work is cut out for me. It seems it always has been.

Was this entirely my fault? Maybe… Partially, in a way, I was the catalyst. Still, I was not the one who wired a bomb. I was just tricked into lighting the fuse. So, who is really at fault here? Me, or the demons? I’ll pay my price, but I also seek justice like my brethren at the commune. I did, anyway… I gave them justice. I KILLED Demon Eyes. It’s not my fault it came back. It’s not my fault they’re making Seraphim lie. It’s not my fault- It’s not my goddamned fault! They’re blinded by rage, and maybe I am, too! But at least I’m not a servant of the Devil!

I have a gun in my hand and matches in the other.

re-introduction

It's been 4 years. My old introduction is inaccurate and cringe. Seeing that I do not plan on giving myself a proper bio, I think I'll drop this here. I've seen other people do this, so I'm giving it a go.

Hi, I'm Perf (Short for Perfidious), and you may know me as the annoying bitch on the status bar. I will not apologize. My pronouns are he/him.

In general, I would say that I sure am a person. I've been roleplaying for somewhere around 6-7 years. I also draw, play bass, and write in my free time. I'm a cowboy enthusiast, an edgy fuck, the King of Queer, and a pile of shapes that ambles outside of your window.

I have BPD and suspect that I have had it for several years- seeing that it has influenced almost every aspect of my life. I'm relatively okay with this. Why am I saying this? I say and do weird shit, and I'm not going to apologize for it unless somebody gets hurt. This also heavily influences the things I create as a sort of self-expression. It's a bit of a silver lining to having a personality disorder. It has sparked my love for angst, tragedies, and surrealism. I am also a touchy person- going hot or cold at almost any second, especially around new people. It is not personal. And believe it or not, I do like friends, I just ask for some patience.

I graduate in a few days, which is wild. I will also emerge as a legal adult in about a month. My life is changing, and I encourage it to.

Felix's Character Dump [WIP]

Work-in-progress

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"Bite me."

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𝙸𝚗𝚏𝚘

❦〘 𝚃𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚛

𝙰𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎

𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢

𝙲𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙻𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

𝙱𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛y〙

Listening to: Very Good Bad Thing

01:43 ━━━━●───── 04:05

⇆ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻

ılıılıılıılıılıılı

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮

ᨏᨐᨓ𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫 ᨓᨐᨏ

"You did good, kid."

Those words made Mikyro's face heat up. Michigan, a taller man with a gravelly voice, wasn't easy to please. Still, the younger one kept up his stoic facade. He didn't respond. The pattering rain bouncing off the car's roof filled the void of silence. Still, actions spoke louder than words. He glanced up at Mitch with his round eyes. In fact, he did this several times before his gaze came to rest on the dashboard, which was illuminated with the several colors of nearby neon signs.

"You've earned it. Pick a name."

What would his name be? He'd thought about this for a good while, days before the question was asked. Sometimes after a good race. Maybe while working on his car, either under the hood or laying on a creeper. Hell, he'd even thought about it when he was unable to sleep, which was often. Members only got a name when they proved themselves to Mitch, which was a complicated process. Suffice to say, Mikyro was surprised he'd managed to do so within the first few weeks. He'd already pondered what his future name would be for hours, though, and didn't hesitate much to answer. With a brief inhale, he finally spoke.

"Texas."

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*＊✿❀𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐨❀✿＊*

𝙵𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎

Mikyro

𝙻𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎

Felbanez

𝙽𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎[𝚜]

Tex, kid, the kid

𝙰𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚜𝚎(𝚜)

Texas, like the state.

𝙱𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢

2/21/XX

𝙰𝚐𝚎

19-23

𝚉𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚌

Pisces

𝚂𝚎𝚡

Assigned female at birth

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛

Transgender male

𝚂𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢

Queer. If you're pretty, you're pretty.

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"Race ya."

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*＊✿❀ 𝐀𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 ❀✿＊*

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𝚅𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝙲𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎

[insert voice claim sample, delete if you like]

𝙵𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚎

Tex has a rounder face, which makes him look youthful.

𝙴𝚢𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚛

His eyes are dark brown, round, and have an epicanthal fold that hints towards his mixed heritage.

𝙽𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎

His nose is short, not very prominent other than his wider nostrils.

𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

5'4. Tex is on the shorter side, which sometimes makes him a bit insecure. He has a litheness to him, but is not very muscular.

𝙱𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎

His build is mesomorphic, and his shape is triangular.

𝙻𝚒𝚙 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚎

His lips are on the smaller, thinner side. Not that he minds.

𝚂𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚎

Tex's skin is warm tan in color.

𝙷𝚊𝚒𝚛

His hair is dark brown, almost black, and around shoulder length. He keeps the back portion tied back in a low ponytail.

𝙵𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝙳𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚜

He tries to keep his face smooth and clean shaven. Occasionally sports a stubble when he's too tired to shave.

𝙱𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝙳𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚜

He has scars across his body, but the most noticeable are the scars under his pectorals from chest surgery. These scars are only visible if he is 21+

𝚃𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚜

Tex gets more tattoos as he ages. He starts off with his forearms, which grow into sleeves, and then eventually reach to his upper back and chest. They are mostly black and geometric in design. He has a lower back tattoo that he considers to be stupid, but refuses to remove.

Design Ideas

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*＊✿❀𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 ❀✿＊*

𝙾𝚞𝚝𝚏𝚒𝚝𝚜

Due to the nature of his jobs, it is best Tex doesn't draw too much attention to himself. While working he wears dark colors, hoods, and gloves. His style is vary to change, though. When doing more legal activities, his personal style is more visible. He still enjoys a dark palette, but with accents of bright colors. He also tends to show more skin through crop tops or a lack of sleeves. Perhaps least interesting outfits are those he uses to lounge in or fix his car with. Oil smudged tees and worn pants are his go-to. Sweat pants if he isn't working.

Clothing Ideas

𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚜

Tex enjoys his boots. Combat boots and utility boots. The latter are to make sure he stays safe in the shop while working on cars. Combat boots look rad as hell and still provide protection.

Shoe Ideas

𝙰𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜

He greatly enjoys wearing a round pair of heavily tinted sunglasses. These are a staple of his look. If it is too dark, he will take them off.

𝙿𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜

More than meets the eye. He's a body art enthusiast and has shoved piercings pretty much anywhere he comfortably can. One his face, he has snakebites, septum, tongue, eyebrow, and too many on his ears. On his body he has two on his chest and one on his naval.

𝙼𝚊𝚔𝚎-𝚞𝚙 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔

None.

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*＊✿❀ 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 ❀✿＊*

𝚄𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢

Tex is a quiet guy with a pretty good poker face. He doesn't talk much, mostly to spite people. He is very mischievous, though. Often he will cause some trouble with a smirk on his lips. He does like a good laugh, and will do stupid shit on a whim to humor himself. Other than that, he is usually completely mute or gives monotone, single word responses. He is a very big believer in "talk shit get hit", so he usually doesn't. He's also come to appreciate the advantage of being a listener. People sometimes forget he's there or get comfortable when he's around, and Tex has heard some very interesting things. He catalogues these things- what was said and who said it, just in case. Very nifty when he's in a pinch. To those who know, which is a very small circle, he is a valuable information broker. Tex is an adrenaline junkie. This is very obvious by his love for street racing and other illegal activities. He is very much young, dumb, and reckless. His talent cannot be denied, though. He knows his way around the wheel. He's considered a rookie, but very eager to prove himself.

𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚛𝚢

Tex is already mildly annoyed with almost everybody who speaks to him. He naturally gives off a disinterested, cold vibe. He does not like giving dumbass people the satisfaction of getting a reaction. However, if Tex is truly angry, like pissed off fury of the gods style, he is a force to be reckoned with. He may not be much on his own, but he knows people and owns several illegal items. It is highly situational, but he isn't above shooting somebody point blank or otherwise threatening them. Tex NEVER raises his voice, somehow. Even while utterly enraged, his voice stays decently low.

𝚂𝚊𝚍

Despite his apathetic persona, Tex can cry- and he will. He will try to stifle and hide it, but he sheds tears when upset. He is always holding a lot in, but sometimes he cracks. When mildly upset, he will just ignore everybody and isolate himself. He can be found hiding in his car a lot. Other times he drinks, smokes, or does other illicit substances to try and cheer himself up. It is only a temporary relief.

𝙷𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢

Tex likes to joke. He will openly joke and speak with his few friends, though he is still a man of few words. He jumps at opportunities to have a good time, even if it an awful idea. He doesn't care. He is very nonchalant and relaxed, perhaps dangerously so. He is fool and a young adult, and will do questionable things with questionable people. He is ultimately just trying to have a good time, and has some residual "I am invincible" teenager worldview. When he's in a good mood, this is even more apparent. He may be a bit of an egomaniac, often letting his hedonism get the better of him.

𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜

→His car. That is everything he cares about in this world. Don't touch his car, he'll pull a gun on you. He built the thing himself- with some help.

→Music. There's nothing like a nice drive while bumpin' some tunes. He enjoys hiphop, rock, and a bit of lofi.

→Pretty People. He likes looking at them, but is otherwise not a big fan of socializing. He'll try to flirt, isn't half bad, but is only fooling around at the end of the day.

→Racing to show off his skills- and winning! Eat it, bitch. He likes an ego boost just as much as the other guys.

→Psychoactive drugs. Specifically stimulants and hallucinogens. He has some sense to stay sober while driving, doesn't trust himself to not break something.

→Animals, especially dogs. He doesn't have the time to commit to a pet currently, but he has fond memories of his childhood companion. To him, animals are capable of no true evil, making them better than people.

→Gambling. He isn't huge on it, but he has fun wasting time at a casino, or placing bets on anything. He's getting better at cards, but also losing money.

𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜

→People. Most are weird, gross, unpredictable, and the no. 1 thing that'll ruin his car.

→Bigots. The only good thing that'll ever come out of a bigot's mouth is their bloody teeth.

→Law enforcement. Fuck the rules, and the cops! They're all corrupt to him. Maybe that isn't too far from the truth, at least in Tistanside. He has always detested authority, with the exception of Mitch.

→Cheaters! Boo, no fun! He is competitive, but has some semblance of honor. Cheating makes people look talentless and pathetic to him. The rules of street racing are loose, though, and he doesn't mind that

𝙿𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚜

→Perceptive

→Calculating

→Direct

→Loyal

→Ambitious

→Determined

𝙽𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚜

→Impulsive

→Standoffish

→Deceptive

→Selfish

→Reckless

→Judgmental

𝙷𝚘𝚋𝚋𝚒𝚎𝚜

→Street racing. Tex lives for the danger and the glory. He's made some solid enemies and friends through racing.

→Mechanics. He's no expert, but he's been working on cars since he was a teen, so he knows a thing or two. He surrounds himself by people who know more than him so he can learn.

→Gambling on card games. This is usually between friends, but occasionally Tex will join a game. His strength is his ability to bluff and hide his emotions.

→

𝙶𝚘𝚊𝚕(𝚜)

Tex has big and small goals, all of varying levels achievability. Of course, he wants to win just about every race he drives- that's the point, right? He also wants to have fun in life, and he's actually having

𝙹𝚘𝚋(𝚜)

He started off working for a mechanic during high school. He had a knack for it. He now races, repairs, and sells vehicles. The racing is more hush hush...

What's even kept more quiet is that Tex is a dirty little thief. He and a group of other racers (led by Michigan) often steal tech from B&I, either to upgrade their cars or sell to clients. Gotta keep that hidden, though.

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*＊✿❀ 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 ❀✿＊*

𝙵𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛

[𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎|𝙰𝚐𝚎|𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜]

[Is your oc close with their father?]

𝙼𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛

[𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎|𝙰𝚐𝚎|𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜]

[Is your oc close with their mother?]

𝚂𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛(s) (copy and paste If needed ♡)

[𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎|𝙰𝚐𝚎|𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜]

𝙱𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 (s) (copy and paste if needed ♡)

[𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎|𝙰𝚐𝚎|𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜]

𝙿𝚎𝚝(𝚜)

(what pets do they have? Describe them, use an image if you'd like as well, ♡)

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♡Quote or image here♡

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*＊✿❀ 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 ❀✿＊*

𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

Tistanside. This large, loud city is located in what was the upper midwest of the United States. Those days are long gone, though. It's a dangerous place if you're not careful- or rich.

𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

Tex hasn't left Tistanside. He never could for long. He's proud of where he came from, and also knows he's a goddamn city slicker. Plus, he's sure he'd miss the noise.

𝙷𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝙴𝚡𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚛

[What does their house exterior look like? Add picture or describe! Do they have a garden as well? Add too! ]

𝙷𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚛

[What does their living room look like? Kitchen? Bedroom? Add pictures or describe!]

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♡Quote or image here ♡

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*＊✿❀ 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲❀✿＊*

𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚍

[write their childhood backstory! ♡]

𝙰𝚍𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝

Write their teen backstory! ♡]

𝙰𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚍

[Write their Adult story! ♡]

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♡Quote or Image here♡

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Seeking for roleplay partners!

EDIT: nevermind. Just noticed your 18+ rule (I'm still a minor). I was searching for a purely platonic roleplay in the first place, but I understand your boundaries.

Animalia - REBOOTED

I decided to make a paper doll of the human version of my character. Enjoy

bigass image

Animalia - REBOOTED

Funny wolf boy go brrr

Animalia - REBOOTED

this unholy image pops into my head any time i see a bunny character now

Animalia - REBOOTED

Anthros are fun to draw. I'm thinking about doing some experimental sketching with shapes, so If anybody wants any doodles of their oc, ping me!