Sugar and Spite

Pines Holler [Not Accepting]

_{Location — #3 Shady Pines Dr (His Home) -> #39 Shady Pines Dr (Ettie’s Home) -> Sidewalk Right Outside Huskers Bar}

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Cliff started his morning the same way he always did, greeted by the wagging tails and soft whimpers of his four-legged companions.

Rising to his feet, Cliff stretched before reaching to turn on the lamp located on his nightstand. He tried it three times before accepting defeat. The man sighed, the heat of his breath mixing into the stickiness of the house. Jazzy whined once more, trying to get her dad to move faster.

The local mechanic navigated his way through his humble abode, opening the front door and letting the dogs run out to the front yard with unwavering enthusiasm. He followed them out onto the grass, breathing in the morning air. It wasn’t much of a temperature difference from indoors to outdoors, but the fact the air was moving was a huge bonus. Cliff listened to the sounds - or rather lack thereof - around him intently. The electrical hum that was usually mixed in with the cicadas and laughter of town children was silent today. He couldn’t help the way he rolled his eyes like a melodramatic teenager at the confirmation of yet another power outage. It was almost enough to make him want to stomp his feet and really act like a two year old.

Once the dogs had had their morning stretch, Cliff filled their food bowls before turning his attention to situating himself. He moved around the house with his cellphone until he got just enough signal to text Jules and Noah letting them know not to come in for the day. It was something deep down he knew that they already knew, but it was always better to be on the safe side. After that was taken care of, he turned his attention to taking a shower. The lack of hot water didn’t bother him. As a matter of fact, Cliff preferred colder showers. Even still, the lack of the option for a hot shower ticked him off. Whatever reason for the grid in Pines being so horrible was one thing he could never understand.

Now dressed and peeved, Cliff settled for a small breakfast of beef jerky before going out to crank the truck. He knew that Huskers would be the place that the whole town gravitated towards, and was planning on heading there right after his required detour.

Making the short drive over to Ettie’s, Cliff honked the horn before shifting the old Chevy into park. He hopped out of the driver's seat, walking his way around the front of the vehicle and opening the door for his passenger while he patiently waited for her arrival.

The short, colorful, wild haired Ettie Willoughby walked out of her trailer right on time. With her bag in one hand, and a blunt in the other, she couldn’t help the way the screen door slammed shut with a little too much force, nor the way she cringed at the sound.

”Mornin’ neighbor,” she called out, already half-way down the porch steps.

”Mornin’ Ms. Ettie,” the man replied. He continued to wait patiently, letting Ettie greet Zeus and Jazzy with scratches between the ears and affirmations that they were the best four legged creatures the universe could have created. Ettie said these things upon meeting any sort of animal, but the dogs didn’t need to know that. Once the woman had gotten her fill of puppy love, Cliff helped Ettie climb into his truck before closing the passenger door for her.

”Another damn power outage,” the elder began. ”You’d figure they’d get around to fixin’ the things they’d need to ‘round here but noooo.”

”You’re telling me,” Cliff sighed. He couldn’t help the way the corners of his mouth threatened to twitch into a smile. While Ettie being upset wasn’t a laughing matter in and of itself, he couldn’t help but find her feisty and mocking side some-what adorable. ”It’s not really even summer yet, n’ the grid already can’t handle it. Ain’t a good sign if you ask me.”

”Well I didn’t,” Ettie teased him, sparking up her blunt as Cliff began to drive them out of Shady Hills. ”But that don’t mean I don’t agree. Been a lot of not so good signs lately.”

Cliff grunted in agreement, making the familiar right out of the trailer park headed towards Huskers. ”What d’ya need to go to Huskers for anyway,” he asked, some-what desperate to change their subject from the unspoken impending doom of Pines Holler.

Ettie looked mildly offended. ”What? You think an ol’ gal like me ain’t got shit to see or people to do?”

”Now Ms. Ettie, I don’t think that’s how that sayin’ go-”

”I know,” she grinned, passing the blunt to him. ”I just like messin’ with ya.”

Cliff hit the blunt and sighed for what felt like the millionth time this morning before passing it back to Ettie.

”I apologize for bein’ nosey then.”

”No need. I ain’t got any secrets. Just wanted to get out of that hot trailer, n’ figured if I wanted to see anyone today I may as well go where they’re all gonna be,” she explained in between puffs. ”What about you, Mister? Hopin’ to see anyone today?”

”No,” Cliff lied a little too quickly. In truth, he was hoping to see a particular someone at the bar. A certain someone with blonde hair, long legs, eyes you could get lost in - the same someone who hadn’t graced Huskers with their presence in months. So yes, Cliff was hoping to see someone. Would he? Probably not. ”Just figured the same as you - followin’ the crowd.”

Ettie nodded slowly, choosing not to push the subject further. They were almost at their destination anyway. She put out her blunt, placing the rest of it in her bag later for safe keeping. Once Cliff had parked, Ettie had no issues exiting the truck by herself before dropping the tailgate so the dogs could get down themselves.

”Thanks,” Cliff was sure to say.

The old woman almost didn’t hear him, already lost in her own world once more. She was staring off down the street, eyes focused on a tall figure in a dark, expensive suit. Someone whose name she was sure she had heard, but had never learned for herself. The same someone who walked around with a natural authority and not-so-natural 20-somethings on his arm. Ettie had been curious about Gideon from the moment he stepped foot into town lines, but she hadn’t made any efforts to learn anything about him so far. He gave her bad vibes, and Ettie always made sure to stay very far away from those.

”Dude creeps me out,” she couldn’t help but comment, drawing Cliffs attention towards the other man.

”How so,” Cliff questioned.

”Just a feelin’,” she responded, forcing her eyes away from Gideon and towards the door of the bar.

Cliff followed her line of sight once more, catching a familiar figure standing in front of the windows.

”You go on Ms. Ettie. I’ll be in not far behind ya. Gonna help Lucas real quick,” the gentleman explained before making his way over to his acquaintance. He stopped a few small steps away from the young man, not wanting to scare him.

”’Scuse me,” he spoke with all of the politeness he could muster. ”Need some help findin’ your way in Lucas?”

_{Interacting With — Themselves, Lucas @SalemFlame
Mentions — Mollie, Gideon}

Pines Holler [Not Accepting]

_{Location — #17 Shady Pines Dr
Outfit — Click}

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Turns out that nine-thirty in the morning came quickly when you had spent the earliest hours of said morning drinking away the depression of Pines Holler.

Nine-thirty also came loudly, and blindingly.

Jules’ siblings had decided to use the spare key she had given them to find their way into her home in Shady Pines before ripping the curtains open in her bedroom. Before she could even open her eyes, the young woman was surrounded by yelling culprits - some trying to cuddle, others running through the house or jumping on the bed. She managed to open her eyes through the sun, gently pushing away one of the younger ones in the litter - Carl - before giving him a small smile and a scratch on the head.

Making her way to her feet, Jules shouted to reinstate her authority over the more wild ones in the bunch.

”Stop jumpin’ on my damn bed, and stop runnin’ through the damn house!”

As soon as the words had left her lips, Charlene and Jenny fell onto the bed in a fit of giggles. The footsteps down the hall calmed themselves, but didn’t stop all together. The heat of the house and the pounding in her head hit around the same time she made out the rest of the voices in the trailer: Emmalou, Levi, Tucker, and Cyndi. She didn’t hear the baby crying, which meant he was either content, or with Mo wherever he had run off to.

The blonde made her way to the bathroom, flicking on the lightswitch before the realization sat in. She let out a heavy sigh as she turned on the sink, splashing her face with cold water and collecting ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet. Jules returned to her bedroom, politely kicking her siblings out of her space so that she could take a brief moment to freshen up before facing the day. There wasn’t a lot she could do unless she wanted to take a freezing cold shower, and she didn’t think it was hot enough for all that quite yet. Instead, she wiped herself down quickly with a damp washcloth. Thankful she had forced herself to shower after stumbling in from the bar, Jules re-applied her deodorant and sprayed some dry shampoo in her hair before convincing herself she had reached an acceptable level of cleanliness before getting dressed.

Opening her bedroom door back up to the sound of the kids, Jules took a deep breath before walking all the way into the kitchen. She loved her siblings - but the power outage, their overall volume, and the heat were not helping the headache she had after last night's festivities. Regardless of all of that, she had to make sure they were safe and fed for the day. Crystal lacked the want or ability to do such things, so the responsibility fell to Jules. As the eldest sibling, she didn’t mind the responsibility - she just felt empathy towards her siblings because they all shared the same shitty birthgiver. She often wondered what all of their lives would be like if any of their fathers were involved, or better yet, if any of their fathers even knew about them, hers included.

It was something she had thought about on and off again throughout her life. To say Jules had a complicated relationship with her mother would be an understatement, but she couldn’t blame a crackhead for everything in her life, could she? At the end of the day, she could have tried harder. Saved more money instead of spending it at Huskers. Tried harder in school, or even went off to college and tried to actually make something of herself like Callie. It was a train of thought that always hit hard - especially in moments like these, her siblings spread out on the couch and floor, sweat dripping from their faces.

“Mo took the baby and said he was heading to his little girlfriend's house in town,” Charlene piped up, already beginning to fill Jules in on the details.

“Can’t find mom again,” Levi continued. “‘At’s why we came to your place.”

“I hate that we can’t cook anythin’ righ’ now,” Tucker added in his opinion.

”S’okay,” Jules reassured all of the faces looking to her for guidance. ”I can make y’all something for breakfast, easy.”

“Really,” Cyndi asked, her voice hopeful. As one of the older ones Cyndi knew they could all rely on Jules, but felt guilty because she remembered all of the times they had had to rely on Jules.

”’Course I can,” she almost laughed. ”All that in the fridge is gonna spoil if I don’t use it anyway.” Continuing to explain, Jules made her way over to the fridge, opening it and looking inside. ”Y’all cool with deer steaks and bananas? I think I got a can of beans somewhere around here too. Just ‘cause the power’s out don’t mean the grill won’t work.” She had been meaning to go shopping,

“BEANS,” Carl cheered, balling up his little fists in excitement while the rest of the house erupted into laughter.

“Sounds good,” Cyndi beamed. “I’m sure Suzie would hate to hear that any of that game went to waste.”

”It’s settled then,” the eldest sibling confirmed. ”Y’all start helping me gather supplies and make yourselves as comfy as ya can.”

So they did.

Jules would make sure to stop by Huskers sometime within the next few hours, but for now, she was focused on making sure her brothers and sisters were well fed and hanging out with the rest of the town kids before she did anything else.

_{Interacting With — Her siblings.
Mentions — Callie, Suzie}

Pines Holler [Not Accepting]

_{Location — #444 Miners Street}

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The power had been out long enough that the house had started to feel like it was breathing wrong.

Rowan lay half-sprawled on top of the sheets, one bare foot hanging off the side of the bed, the other tangled somewhere in sweat-damp fabric. The air was thick, pine and honeysuckle and something faintly metallic from the stillness of overheated appliances. The kind of heat that didn’t just sit on your skin, but pressed. The kind that made time feel syrup-slow.

Somewhere outside, cicadas screamed like they were being paid by the decibel.

He exhaled through his nose and stared at the ceiling fan above him, motionless, useless, accusatory.

“Yeah,” he muttered to no one. “That tracks.”

Rowan pushed himself upright, running a hand through hair that refused to cooperate, skin already slick again the second he moved. The house on Miners Street had character, sure. Original wood. Old bones. Charm, if you were feeling generous. What it did not have was insulation worth a damn when the grid decided to tap out.

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand. No signal bars. No service. A dead rectangle of heat-warmed glass.

“Of course.”

From down the hall came the faintest shift of sound, floorboards complaining under someone else’s weight. Familiar footsteps. Unmistakable, even half-asleep. Rowan didn’t smile, exactly, but something in his chest loosened all the same.

He pulled on some basketball shorts and stepped into the hallway, the wood cool under his feet in places where the shade still held. The house smelled like incense and old paint and whatever candle Callie had burned last night, something smoky and sweet and faintly herbal.

“Please tell me you hear generators,” he called, voice low and rough with sleep, pitched just loud enough to carry without breaking the quiet. “Or at least the sweet sound of Husker’s freezer fighting for its life.”

He leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, listening, not just for her answer, but for everything else. The town waking without electricity had a sound of its own. No hum. No buzz. Just cicadas, distant voices, the low thrum of heat settling into old wood.
Rowan drummed his fingers absently against his thigh, four beats, pause, three, an unconscious rhythm he didn’t bother correcting. His eyes drifted to the front window, where sunlight spilled in hard and unapologetic, dust motes dancing like they had nowhere better to be.

Summer in Pines Holler always felt like this. Beautiful. Heavy. Alive.

“Swear to God,” he added, quieter now, more to her than to the house, “if this turns into one of those all-day outages, I’m moving my ass straight to the bar. Ice, generators, and bad decisions. In that order.”
He waited there, listening for her voice, for whatever mood she’d woken up wearing, content to let the heat sit between them for a moment longer.

Stuck in that awkward state of just asleep enough to stay stuck to the bed, Rowan’s voice was what made Callie shuffle to her feet. The heat hit her shortly after she stood up, giving her a few gracious seconds to ignore the sweat that ran down every inch of her skin. These early, humid summer days were beautiful, but they were a friend to no space without air flow. Reaching for the bottle of water on the bedside table, Callie wiped her arm across her forehead and took a moment to gather herself before answering her brother.

Listening to the still silence that surrounded the house, the young woman couldn’t help but smirk once she picked up the low hum of the generators a few streets over at the bar.

”They’re running,” she croaked back, opening the bottle and taking a drink. She scrunched her face up in disappointment - it was hot, of course, just like everything else at the moment.

Callie took another moment to gain her composure, the heat leaving her feeling as if she had woken up with a mild hang-over. She loved North Carolina, and she loved Pines Holler even more - but she’d be damned if the humidity had ever been her friend. Moving slowly around her bedroom, Callie managed to make her way over to the closet before rummaging around to find their emergency toiletry supplies - an old milk crate filled with various items like baby wipes, emergency deodorant, and the like. Pulling it from the closet floor, she sat the crate on the bed and began to rummage around for the few random items that she needed before opening the door to hand it to her brother.

Looking up at Rowan, Callie handed the supplies over to him with a sympathetic half-smile. The fact that Rowan was now a young man was never more present in Callie’s mind than when she had to look up at him. She still remembered him as the little shit that was just tall enough to reach her waist, running around their childhood house with a gleeful grin on those rare occasions when their parents weren’t home. Regardless of the time that had passed, Callie would always be grateful that she still had the means to look after her brother.

”I’ll call the power company for an ETA as soon as I open up all the windows,” Callie reassured him, already making her way through the home to do as such. ”If I can find signal somewhere, that is,” she grumbled quietly to herself. Their family plan was a great budget deal, but it was exactly that - budget. Power outages turned the Shaw’s phones into absolute bricks.
”Maybe we could find something for breakfast too if you’re hungry,” she offered, brain already in full crisis solving mode.

Rowan took the milk crate like it was something sacred, one hand steadying it against his hip while the other scratched at the back of his neck.

“Emergency glamour kit,” he muttered, peering inside. “We are nothing if not prepared.”
He watched her for a second longer than he meant to.

The heat was doing that softening thing it did to the edges of the morning, turning sharp thoughts syrup-slow, but even through it, he noticed the way she moved. Efficient. Already three steps ahead. Windows. Phone. Breakfast. Strategy.

Callie always did default to logistics when the world tilted sideways.

He shifted out of the doorway to let her pass, shoulder brushing the frame instead of her. Close enough. Familiar enough. The house creaked as she moved through it, wood popping faintly in protest as she started working windows open one by one. Warm air shuffled in, but at least it moved.

“Generators are running, huh?” he echoed, glancing toward the front of the house like he could see through three blocks of stubborn humidity. The faint hum had reached him now too, a low mechanical pulse under the cicadas. Not pretty or musical. But steady.

Rowan dug through the crate and pulled out a pack of baby wipes, popping it open with a quiet snap. “Guess Husker’s is officially the town’s savior again. Add that to their résumé.”

He dragged one of the wipes down the back of his neck with a sigh that was almost sinful.

The heat clung stubbornly anyway.

From the living room, sunlight poured in like it had something to prove. He crossed toward the kitchen instead, bare feet slapping softly against old wood, fingers already tapping against the counter without him realizing it, one-two-three-four, pause, one-two-three. A restless rhythm.

He opened the fridge out of habit.

Warm air breathed back at him. He snagged a Cheerwine anyway.

Rowan closed it immediately after. “Cool,” he deadpanned. “Love that for us.”
He leaned his hip against the counter, watching her silhouette move past the windows, listening to the town wake up in pieces. A truck door slammed somewhere. Someone shouted a name down the street. The generator hum carried, stubborn and mechanical.

He tilted his head, listening past it.

“Think we’ve got anything that won’t try to kill us?” he asked, glancing toward her as she passed the doorway again. “Bread. Peanut butter. The emergency Pop-Tarts you pretend you don’t buy?”

His mouth twitched faintly.

Then, softer, less joking, more real.

“You sleep okay?”

It was casual. Almost. But the question held weight beneath it. He didn’t look at her directly when he asked, his head still inside the kitchen, his eyes watching the way light moved across the kitchen floor instead.

Outside, a breeze finally pushed through the open windows, carrying the same pine and honeysuckle scent from before.

Rowan let it settle over his skin.

“If it’s gonna be a bar day,” he added after a beat, tone lighter again, “I call dibs on the good stool. The one that doesn’t wobble.”

He tapped out another rhythm against the counter, absent, steady, grounding, waiting for her answer.

Moving around their house, Callie seemed to find a rhythm of her own. She couldn’t open every window, due to the fact that Charlie refused to replace the missing screens in some of them like Callie had requested. Thankfully, there were still enough of them that were intact that could get the air moving through the house. They were also blessed with the fact that their screen door was still in decent condition.

Opening said door, the brunette was met with a soft morning breeze. Callie closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in the air. A small smile found its way to her face as the familiar smells of Pines Holler brought back old memories of other power outages she had shared with Rowan.

She wanted to protest when she heard the fridge crack open, but knew that her point would be futile. Like everything else in Pines their refrigerator was old. The seals were worn out and it was hard for the thing to keep temp on a good day, much less on one with no power.
Her smile turned to more of a smirk when her brother commented on the Pop-tarts specifically.

”Don’t pretend like you don’t appreciate me grabbing your favorite flavor,” she teased. ”I’m sure the stuff in the freezer is still okay.” Her tone was thoughtful, calculating. It was nearly impossible for Callie to not want to fix everything she could, even in moments where the crisis was relatively minor. ”Not that that matters with the stove not working,” she continued to think aloud, the corners of her mouth turning downwards into a frown.

Walking back into her bedroom, the weight of Rowan’s next questions settled right on top of the summer heat. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t hear him, not this time with the whole town still and quiet. ”I slept okay,” she attempted to lie. They both knew the other had nightmares. Even with the thunderstorm sounds Callie played on her bedroom TV all night, she knew Rowan heard the shouts. ”You?”

The young woman began to clean herself up, changing into clean clothes and the like. Another small smile crept its way onto her face as she listened to Rowan tapping against the kitchen counter. Familiar and steady, Callie knew he did it for himself, but it helped to keep her grounded as well.

Coming back around the corner of the hallway and into the kitchen, she couldn’t help but laugh at his comment about the bar stool.

”I agree - but only if I get the one next to it without the big stain,” the older Shaw joked back. Sitting down on the living room couch, Callie began collecting her smoking supplies out from underneath the coffee table to roll a few blunts for today's adventure. ”Ya know, speaking of being the town savior, I’m sure Husker also has something better to eat than Jiff.”
Rowan made a quiet sound of approval from the kitchen when she confirmed the Pop-Tarts, like she’d just validated something deeply personal.

“First of all,” he called, leaning his shoulder against the doorway so he could see her moving through the living room, “brown sugar cinnamon is a cornerstone of my emotional stability. Put some respect on it.”

There was no real bite to it. Just heat-soft humor. The kind that came easy when it was just the two of them and the morning hadn’t decided to be anything more than inconvenient yet.

He wiped the back of his neck again, already feeling the sweat returning, and listened to the house breathe. Open windows helped, but it was like trying to cool a fever with a damp cloth.

Her answer about sleep didn’t convince him.

It wasn’t supposed to.

He nodded anyway, eyes drifting to the floorboards between them. “Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”

It was easier like that. Easier to leave the truth alone before it woke up all the way.

When she came back out, dressed and more solid somehow, he let himself look for a second before he remembered not to stare. She always seemed to gather herself faster than he did. Like whatever chased them in the dark had less teeth in daylight when it came to her.

Her laugh, real and bright, cut through the heat when she agreed to the bar stools, and Rowan huffed a quiet laugh of his own.

“Alright, but if anyone’s bled on your seat again, that’s not on me. That’s between you and God.” He made a face then, hating the joke.

He shifted into the living room as she settled on the couch, watching her pull out the tray and supplies like it was just another part of the morning. Another routine. Another small act of rebellion against discomfort.

His stomach growled, low and traitorous.

“Okay,” he admitted, rubbing a hand over his face. “Husker’s officially our best option.”

He glanced toward the front door, where the screen creaked faintly in the breeze, then back toward the dark kitchen behind him.

“Plus,” he added, almost as an afterthought, “I’m hoping the power’s back before four.”

The words sat heavier than the rest.

He leaned down, grabbing his sneakers and thumbing the worn edge of one sole.

“I’ve got a session.”

He didn’t say it like it was nothing. Didn’t shrug it off. The opposite, really. There was something careful in the way he said it.

Something he didn’t want to bruise.

It wasn’t a big studio. Wasn’t Nashville. Wasn’t even Asheville.

Just a converted room here in the House, where the walls had been padded with cheap foam and egg cartons, and literally everything else he could think to soundproof, where the air always smelled faintly like dust and old wiring. But it had mics. Real ones. And a kit that wasn’t missing half its hardware.

And they paid him.

Enough to mean someone, somewhere, thought he was worth recording.

His fingers started tapping against his thigh without him noticing. Nervous energy. Hope. Fear.

Music had always been the one place he didn’t feel like he was pretending. The only place he wasn’t the preacher’s son, or the mayor’s mistake, or the boy who stayed behind.

Behind a kit, he was just…

Him.

No apologies. No explanations.

Just sound.

He swallowed and looked back up at her, tone lighter again, like he hadn’t just handed over something fragile.
“Figure if the power’s still out, I might be screwed,” he said. “No power, no board. No board, no session.”

He nudged his foot into his sneaker.

“And I’m not missing it. Not for anything.”

Not for heat. Not for outages. Not for Pines Holler deciding to fall apart one inconvenience at a time.

His eyes flicked to the blunt she was rolling, then back to her face, mouth tugging slightly at one corner.

“But,” he added, softer now, easier, “until then, I vote we let Husker feed us and pretend we’re not slowly melting into the furniture.”

He straightened, grabbing his other shoe.

“You roll. I’ll make sure no one steals our seats.”

A small pause.

“And Callie?”

He hesitated just long enough for it to matter.

“I’ll get you breakfast.”

Even though she wouldn’t quite admit it aloud, having Rowan around made Callie feel lighter. Perhaps it was his familiarity or just having someone around who knew the unspoken things. Whatever it was, it was clear and evident when Callie smirked and laughed at his jokes - even if some of them left a bad after taste in their mouths from past experiences.
While her brother moved around the house, Callie had already begun to stick to the couch. She silently admitted defeat, beginning to try and roll a blunt as the ground weed tried to cling to her fingertips. In a search for solace, the young woman found herself confronted with more minor frustrations to ignore. Such was life in Pines.

She was mostly quiet, focusing on the task at hand until Rowan spoke up about his plans for the day. Another smile tugged at the corners of her mouth while she tried to hold back her excitement for him. Callie knew full well that if she tried to make a ‘big deal’ out of things that her brother would shut her down, stating that it wasn’t as exciting as she claimed. So there she sat, watching him with a silent pride as he stressed over the power.

”If it’s not back on by then, we’ll figure it out,” she reassured him, lighting the first of her ‘prizes’. The smell of weed and light undertones of mango mixed themselves with the summer heat while her brain already began to spin with ideas of a backup plan.

Nodding in agreement about Huskers once more, carefully dancing around the issue so as to not stress either of them further. ”I know it’s only like ten in the morning, but a burger would slap right now.”

Now shifting her attention more directly to focus on both rolling and smoking, she nearly protested when he offered to buy her meal. The expression on his face was what made her think twice about it.

”Thank you Ro,” she agreed, watching him make his way half out the door already. ”I’ll see you soon!”

_{Interacting With — Themselves
Collaboration with — @Apoalo}

Hi, I'm Bonnie Blue

@Bonnie Blue

Heyo! Super cool to see another Western NC native pop up here <3

RPG can be a lot to take in initially, so I just recommend taking some time to familiarize yourself with the forum sections and such. There's also some really helpful information on how to navigate and RP on the forum in our Articles & Huides section.

Pines Holler [Not Accepting]

Motorcycle Drive By

_{Faceclaim: Garrett Hedlund // Color Code: #5A9D39}
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_{Full Name:}

Isaiah James Fulton

_Nickname(s):

He just goes by Isaiah.

_Age:

Thirty-five // January 12th // Capricorn

_Gender:

Male.

_Sexuality:

Heterosexual.

_Occupation:

• Former Yard Manager at Parton's Lumber Company
• Currently unemployed and looking for work. He's had a few interviews, but nothing has stuck yet.

_{Place of Residence:}

389 Miners Street

_{Family and Close Connections:}

• Liz Fulton: Wife, High-school sweetheart, best friend.
• Louella Fulton - Mother - Deceased
• Franklin Fulton - Father - Deceased
• Michael Fulton - Younger Brother - Construction worker - Age 32
• Joseph Fulton - Younger Brother - Lives out of state - Age 30
• Samuel Fulton - Younger Brother - Lives out of state - Age 29

_Appearance:

• Height: Six feet, two inches.
• Hair: Brown || Straight || Shaggy, nearly shoulder length at the moment.
• Eyes: Blue.
• Body Type: Mesomorph || Years in the lumber yard and doing outdoor activities have help keep Isaiah fit.
• Clothing Style: Casual & Rugged || Jeans, flannels, ball caps, dirty work boots, tank-tops and solid colored t-shirts.
  
  • One.
  • Two.
  • Three.
  • Four.
• Body Markings:
  
  • Various scars of shapes and sizes cover his body from head to toe, caused by anything from childhood adventures, work, or bar fights.
  • A birthmark oh the back left of his shoulder that sort of resembles a star. It's roughly the size of a quarter.

_Personality:

Hardworking 🌲 Loyal 🌲 Friendly, but Introverted 🌲 Romantic 🌲 Genuine 🌲 Direct - no time for the bullshit 🌲 Protective 🌲 Family Man 🌲 Guilt Ridden 🌲 Caring 🌲 Self Conflicted

_History:

• TW: Brief mentions of child neglect and miscarriage.
• Born and raised in Pines Holler, Isaiah's family never contributed much to the community outside of being good neighbors and able bodies that were more than willing to contribute to the work force. His father worked as a construction man. His mother preferred odd jobs like at the local gas station, or bar when she was feeling adventurous. Isaiah spent most of his younger years being a third parent to his two younger siblings. He grew up struggling, much like the rest of the townspeople. While there was a roof over his head, and food in his stomach, Isaiah found himself constantly wondering if the power was going to be on when he got home each day. Or how about the water bill - had anyone paid that lately?
• His school years were nothing special. Isaiah was a C average student, and people told him that he could apply for the community college someday - though he never did. He could have joined sports or clubs like some of the other students, but he had to be there for his siblings. Someone had to make sure they were bathed and fed. While Isaiah and his siblings technically had what the needed for survival, no one had ever really taught them how to do basic things. His father was busy gambling what little money they had away, while his mother was bouncing from bed to bed, searching for love and respect that she would never find - much less give herself. He doesn't regret being there for his brothers. They grew up to be good, decent human beings. Besides, his high-school experience wasn't a total waste. He met Liz - and oh boy, does that count for something.
• Elizabeth (then) Rhodes turned Isaiah's life into something of want - not necessity. He graduated high school and began working at the lumber yard not because he had to like everyone else, but because it paid good and he wanted to in order to better himself and Liz. He managed to do it for quite a bit, too. Had even worked himself all the way up to manager at the lumber yard. Then came the shut down - right on top of everything else they had already been and were currently going through.
• The day it was announced that Parton's was closing, Isaiah went home feeling conflicted. On one hand, he could chose to do something different with his career. On the other, he had just lost one of - if not the - best opportunities in his life. On top of that, Liz was coming closer and closer to her due date with the baby. Closer and closer to time that they had lost their last child. It was enough to make someone want to pick up a bottle and drown their sorrows in the bottom of it, and someone did just as such.
• Every single day for the last month now, Isaiah has been drinking himself silly. It started out slowly with a few beers and a decent buzz. Now it's a few beers and a couple of shots a Huskers, followed up by even more shots from whatever bottle he's managed to currently stash and hide away from his wife. Right now, he's sticking to a personal rule that all drinking must be after five PM, but he finds himself wanting to drink earlier in the day and also steadily drinking more and more. He's currently blowing through his own savings, but it won't be long before he's blowing through the family's.

_{Extra Facts // Headcannons:}

• REQUIRED: How does your character feel about the expansion/growth of Pines Holler?
  
  • He's an absolute slut for Waffle House, but they can shove the rest of it up their perfectly bidet'ed asses.
• While Isaiah and Liz's wedding was rushed and pressured, Isaiah did propose and marry his wife out of nothing but love.
• The Fultons have a six year old, black labrador retriever named Angus. Angus gets his own burger patty (with cheese!) at every personal, family, and community cookout. Table scraps of other varieties are also very welcome and much appreciated on the day to day and in addition to said burger patty.
• Isaiah and Liz have a 'look' for everything. It's their own silent form of communication.
• Enjoys country music, dad rock, older hip pop (think Nelly, T-Pain, etc) and even some of the things that he finds on Liz's playlist - but he can't really tell you the names of those.
• Isaiah's side hustle is being Pines community lumber guy. He'll come remove fallen or standing trees from your property, and also damn near always has firewood for sale.
• Drives a 1985 Ford Ranger.
• Currently filled with a ton of guilt for multiple reasons. Said reasons being (TW): Liz's miscarriages, losing his job, convincing Liz to quit her job, drinking, blowing through savings, and not being able to find a job. Plus Pines just fuckin' sucks, dude.
• Keep an eye on his discord channel, because he's a brand-new character, so I'll have lots of ideas.

Pines Holler [Not Accepting]

_{Location — Pines Holler, June 27th, 9:30AM. Current temperature of 67 degrees Fahrenheit, with highs of 85.}

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

There has always been something special about the summer in Pines Holler.

Maybe it has something to do with the kids being out of school and how their laughter can be heard echoing all throughout town again. Perhaps it was the way the plants began to bloom again, bringing in the scent of pine trees and honey suckle when the warm breezes roll through. It could even be the longing and hope for the nostalgia of years past.

Regardless of whatever the source, summer time in Pines Holler is unique.

It’s a time when everything is just a bit more upbeat - a little more on the sunny side, if you will. People walk around with smiles on their faces, waving and stopping to talk to their neighbors more often than they would in colder months. Children run around barefoot, riding bikes and skateboards down main street while old men sit outside the general store in their rocking chairs. Older siblings come back home from college for summer vacations. Family reunions and community grill-outs are more common than not.

Tourists flock to the town in waves, curious to see what little history Pines still has while simultaneously finding ways to metaphorically shit on all of it. Electricity bills skyrocket from trying to combat the summer heat.

Except for on days like today, where there is no electricity and you’ve woken up in a sweltering home with the bedsheets clinging to you like a newborn does its mother. Luckily for the townspeople, it should be back on soon… right?

No need to sweat it though! (like you have a choice) Husker already has the generators going down at the bar, and the ice in the freezer hasn’t had quite enough time to melt yet.

_{Interacting With — N/A
Mentions — Lowkey the whole town, ig}

Gypsy Hearts and Broken Dreams (Haley's Testing)

Dance Fever

_{Faceclaim: Claire Estabrook (@nonsalemwitch) // Color Code: #FF7B7B}
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_{Full Name:}

Ryan Anastasia Reid

_Nickname(s):

• Rye (like the bread)
• Ana - very close friends and family members only.
• Lil' Georgia - used by older members of the community and some family members that remember Ryan's mother, Georgia. This nickname is used to mock Ryan.
• Candy - her stage name.

_Age:

Twenty-three // December 4th // Saggitarius

_Gender:

Female.

_Sexuality:

Bisexual - heavily leans towards women.

_Occupation:

• Your favorite local dealer: Ryan sells pills, acid, LSD, ecstasy, mushrooms, and weed. She doesn't sell anything harder than that, but can point you in the right direction if you're looking.
• Exotic Dancer at The Trophy Club.

_{Place of Residence:}

#213 Miners Street

_{Family and Close Connections:}

• Willow Reid - Grandmother - Alcoholic - Deceased
• Georgia Reid - Egg Donor Mother - Drug Dealer, Law Breaker, Family Ruiner - Deceased
• Peta Reid - Aunt - Tattoo Artist - Very Distant.
• Delia Carter-Reid - Cousin & Roommate - Very close. Considers to be more of a younger sister. Written by @SouffleGirl123

_Appearance:

• Height: Five foot, three inches.
• Hair: Dark brown, black in certain lighting. || Mostly straight, with a very minor wave pattern. || Long and layered. The front, or 'face framing' pieces around her face have grown out to be shoulder length, while the rest/back of her hair is nearly waist length. || Ryan does random things with her hair for work all the time like braids, space buns, etc. When not working, it's usually just left down to breathe, or thrown up messily with a claw clip or scrunchie.
• Eyes: Blue.
• Body Type: Fit Hourglass || Ryan's work has given her slight muscle definition in addition to her curves.
• Clothing Style:
  
  • Femininely Alternative: Ryan tends to dress in dark colors; dark greens, reds, greys and blacks. She enjoys wearing boots or heels when she can, but also loves a good sneaker from time to time. Multiple bracelets, rings, and necklaces decorate her body at any given time. She's not shy to show skin, even outside of work.
    
    • One.
    • Two.
    • Three.
    • Four.
    • Five.
    • Six.
• Makeup Wise: Dark eyeshadows, nude or red lip colors, lash extensions. Ryan usually sports a pretty full face, or sometimes hardly any makeup at all. It really just depends on her mood, and if she has work or not.
• Body Markings:
  
  • Ryan's has a lot of tattoos. Her is a list of her most notable (but not all of) her tattoos:
    
    • The year ‘1987’ is tattooed across her stomach. Don’t ask her why. She doesn’t know.
    • Her left arm is a blackout sleeve with various flowers and butterflies drawn in.
    • On her upper right arm, there is a Sailor Moon tattoo. While Ryan isn’t an anime fan, she got this as a dedication peace to her best friend that passed away some years ago.
    • Across her knuckles, the words ‘open mind’ are written.
    • Ryans legs are covered in tattoos in a patchwork sort of style. On her right leg, there’s a large spider web around her knee. You can also find a tooth, another butterfly, flowers and a bat decorating her right leg. On the left, she sports a crow on her thigh, and a topless mermaid on the lower half.
  • Various scars of different shapes and sizes on her thighs from years of self harm. Some of them are old, some are new.
  • ((TW: CHILD ABUSE) Ryan has multiple scars ranging in sizes and severity decorating her back. These are from all of the bottles her mother used to throw at her during fits of rage. Just like everyone else, she has small scars here and there from childhood shenanigans.

_Personality:

Charismatic - Flirtatious - Intelligent - Quick Witted - Life of the Party - Loyal - Thrill Seeking - Aggressive - Guarded - Possesive - Anxiety Riddled - Hopeless Romantic - Attention Seeking - Anarchist

_History:

• TW: Mentions of: Drug abuse, child abuse (verbal and physical), child neglect, alcohol abuse, overdose, predatory age gaps, death, shit mothers, and any other thing I forgot to mention.
• Born and raised in Pines Holler, Ryan was the only child thank fuck Georgia Reid was ever lucky enough to give birth to. The result of a one night stand, the only reason Ryan wasn’t aborted was because of Georgia’s heavily religious family. Georgia was a heroine addict, and constantly put her child in the middle of her bullshit. If it wasn't for the fact that Ryan's grandmother, Willow, refused to kick Georgia out to save what little face she had left with the community, and managed to do the absolute bare minimum to keep an infant Ryan alive, Ryan would have died a long time ago.
• While she made sure that Ryan had something to eat, and got back and forth to school, Willow was far from a saint. An alcoholic herself, Willow would often times end up in explosive and sometimes physical altercations with Georgia.
• In her early school years, Ryan was labeled as a 'gifted child'. Once she hit age twelve, any dedication she had had for her studies went right out the window. Ryan knew that she could basically go wherever with whoever because there was no one at 'home' that cared - so she did. Ryan was already couch hoping, looking for better environments to be in. Most of the time, she would end up at her Aunt Petra's having sleepovers with her younger cousin, Delia. She had began getting in trouble at school for attendance issues, her smart mouth, and starting fights with other students. By the time she reached her sophomore year, Ryan had began hanging out with some of the older kids who were up to no good, still couch hopping (now to debatably worse places), winding up in trap houses, and running from the cops more often than not. She spent the summer of after her sophomore year in juvy, due to taking a baseball bat to the math teachers car - and the math teacher. Word quickly spread in the small town of Pines how Ryan was becoming a 'homewrecker' at the age of fifteen, so she had to retaliate somehow for all of that embarrassment.
• Ryan always has been the problem child - her mother was sure to make sure she knew that. Growing up, Georgia always found ways to make Ryan feel small - which resulted in her having such a large personality now. Georgia was sure to let Ryan know that she was the biggest inconvenience. When Ryan reached around ten years of age, her mother fought her on a few occasions when Ryan refused to give her money. It seemed that Georgia didn’t want to admit that she was asking a literal child to fund her drug habit. There were multiple times that Georgia made Ryan take money from Willow to give to her, and when Ryan refused when she got old enough to understand (around the age of twelve) Georgia became even more violent. When Ryan would try to get away from her mother, Georgia would throw whatever was in her hands at the time at her daughter. When she didn’t have anything to throw, she would hit Ryan with her fists. The men that Georgia brought home weren't much better. Physically, sexually, verbally or mentally abusive - they were pretty much all the same. Willow was never a saint, but at least she drove down to the school houses to bail Ryan out, was there for her when she had to spend nights in jail, and to give her a stern talking to. For the most part, Ryan raised herself. The only person that Ryan stayed in contact with from her mothers past was one of her boyfriends sons named Eli. His father was abusive and fell in love with Georgia for a brief period of time before her death. Ryan and Eli quickly became friends, and snuck out of the house to walk around town with each other when the nights at home got to be a little too much. Eli was the only light that Ryan has ever had in her life. The young man died when Ryan was 17, causing her to get a fake ID and her first ‘legal’ tattoo - her Sailor Moon piece.
• Willow died a few weeks after Ryan's thirteenth birthday, leaving Georgia as her sole caretaker. The last two years that Ryan had with her mother were somehow an even worse hell. When Ryan found her mother dead on their living room couch, it was almost a relief.
• At the age of fifteen - after her time in juvy, and her mothers death - Ryan was sent to live with her Aunt Petra and cousin Delia. Ryan didn't intend to ever be a bad influence on Delia, but it wound up that way. She would sneak Delia out with her late at night, teaching her how to graffiti, climb through construction sites, and lock pick. Ryan is the reason Delia tried weed for the first time when she was twelve. Ryan isn't proud of this.
• When Georgia died, her trailer was left relatively untouched for the first year. Sometimes Ryan would sneak back over there and reminisce on what little she could while sneaking into the remainder of her dead family members' liquor cabinet. After getting out of juvy, she had also began to form a drug habit with pills and would occasionally take acid. Her Aunt would find her contraband from time to time, which only made Ryan more sneaky and caused the divide in their relationship to grow even larger.
• Her Aunt Petra forced her to graduate high school, though Ryan did so with a very low GPA. After graduating, Ryan spent a year couch hopping with 'friends', doing various drugs and attending more house parties than she cares to count. She's spent a handful of nights in the county jail throughout the years, mostly for things like underage drinking and violent disputes.
• At age 19, Ryan managed to sweet talk her way into a job on the far side of town at the Trophy Club as a stripper exotic dancer. She's worked there ever since.
• Shortly after beginning her job, Ryan was able to begin renting her home on Miners Street. Her cousin Delia moved into the spare bedroom almost a year and a half ago.
• About a month ago, a new client began coming to the club and offered Ryan some of his 'premium' cocaine stash. Fucked in the head with no regard for her mortality, Ryan obliged. She's bought some here and there from him the last few weeks, and so far has no plans to stop.
• She's not sure what it is, but in the last few months, Ryan has been thinking more long term about her future and what the purpose of this whole life thing really is. The young woman has been reliving old dreams about becoming a nurse, but with her current life style habits Ryan isn't sure she'll ever be able to step up to the plate and give her younger self the future she used to dream of.

_{Extra Facts // Headcannons:}

• REQUIRED: How does your character feel about the expansion/growth of Pines Holler?
  
  • Ryan is more or less indifferent to the development of Pines. She looks forward to the new businesses that will continue to come to town, but also has a small fear that the town may grown to be a bit to big and force her out. Regardless, she isn't really stressing it one way or another quite yet.
• The only thing she's allergic to is bullshit.
• Identifies as a Pescatarian, but loves Turkey on Thanksgiving and a fat ass juicy burger when she's drunk.
• Smokes weed, drinks booze, 'likes to play in the snow', and still enjoys a nice pill from time to time.
• Ryan loves to grow plants, and a very small garden with a handful of items at home. While her house isn't anything special, she's made it a point to decorate the yard with flower bushes and the like.
• Has been known to carry around a black journal full of random poetry that she's written, spicy fantasies, random thoughts, and doodles.
• Is prone to PTSD attacks and nightmares about her childhood. She very, very rarely speaks about her past.
• Loves, loves, loves cherry coke.
• It's a very rare thing for Ryan to actually be sober.
• Knows her way around the kitchen very well, and uses food as one of her love languages.
• Drives a pre-owned 2013 Nissan Altima that's missing the front bumper, and really needs to go see Cliff about it's oil leak.

Pines Holler [Not Accepting]

@Sugar and Spite @Moon Child @SalemFlame Getting in right under the wire. I haven't been feeling well over the past few days, so it was a bit tense for a while.

Pastor Matthew Pierce

Matthew Pierce

_{Faceclaim: Lewis Pullman // Color Code: #6494ed}
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_{Full Name:}

Matthew Coltrane Pierce

_Nickname(s):

Pastor Matt, Matty

_Age:

31

_Gender:

Male

_Sexuality:

Straight

_Occupation:

Youth & Outreach Pastor at Pines Holler Baptist Church; occasionally volunteers as a counselor for those in emotional distress, despite no proper psychiatric training

_{Place of Residence:}

He has taken up residence in the small ‘shack’ previously used by the cemetery caretaker behind the church. While he insists it is only a temporary solution, he has occupied the space for the past three years.

_{Family and Close Connections:}

• Father Waylon Shaw – the head pastor of Pines Holler Baptist Church; serves as both Matt’s boss and mentor. After his biological father left at a young age, he views him almost like the father he never had. He is poised to succeed him as the head pastor after BLANK steps down, retires, or passes.
• Lorraine Pierce – Mother and former bartender, she now resides in a nursing home a few towns over in Marion. Matt rarely speaks about her and has shown no inclination to visit her, even with her declining health.
• Tessa Reeves – Ex-girlfriend who left for Knoxville. With rumors swirling about her engagement, Matt claims he’s happy for her, though he seldom elaborates on the subject and prefers not to talk about their past.

_Appearance:

• Height: 6’0”
• Hair: Brown hair, usually unkempt and kept a little too long; light stubble on his chin that he trims to look accidental
• Eyes: Blue
• Body Type: Ruggedly handsome, conceals a trim body beneath his more conservative choice of clothes
• Clothing Style: Clean shirts that are usually rolled up at the sleeves and wrinkled, khaki or jeans, casual shoes, typically a pair of worn sneakers, a silver chain around his neck with a cross, and leather bracelets from some youth event he never talks about
• Body Markings: N/A

_Personality:

• Awkwardly charming
• Soft-spoken, but firm when pushed
• Compassionate to a fault; he can be far too trusting sometimes
• Self-loathing in private/lonely
• Secretly volatile
• Faithful but constantly tempted
• Empathetic
• Romantic in theory; reckless in practice
• Idealistic
• Afraid of wasting his life

_History:

Matthew is a man of faith, though he did not start on the path to glory. As a child, he was far from the sanctity of the church. While his mother worked at the bar, Matt typically frequented pool halls and gas stations, associating with those who would rather remain in the shadows due to their shady practices. That’s why his conversion to Christianity at nineteen was both sudden and dramatic. Some called it a miracle while others suspected it was desperation disguised as revelation. Either way, the church folks loved a revival story, and as far as they were concerned, Matt was a textbook example.

However, when he went off to attend seminary, it did not last. Rumors swirled about the reasons, ranging from illness to insubordination; some even speculated that there was an inappropriate relationship involved. Despite the circumstances, the outcome remained the same: Matt returned to Pines Holler early, seeking fulfilling work that would satisfy his faith.

Fortunately, Pines Holler Baptist Church took him in. Pastor Waylon Shaw—older, patient, and sharp enough to see both potential and danger in the young man—became a kind of mentor and father figure. Under Shaw’s wing, Matt found his purpose. As the congregation’s youth and outreach pastor, he wrangled teens on Wednesday nights, handled funerals on short notice, and even stepped into the role of unofficial counselor and confidante for anyone in town who needed someone to talk to.

Nevertheless, his transformation never felt complete. While his faith and love are real, he still experiences certain temptations from his past that he hasn’t quite managed to drown in baptism.

_{Extra Facts // Headcannons:}

• REQUIRED: How does your character feel about the expansion/growth of Pines Holler?
  This is a complicated issue for Matt. On one hand, he wants to save Pines Holler from decay, feeling a deep connection to the place as his hometown, but on the other, he has an innate desire to escape and find his own path.
• Smokes in his truck to calm his nerves, but never in front of church members.
• Keeps liquor in a water bottle under the hymnals in the back of the church, untouched for weeks, and then gone overnight.
• Writes letters to his mother, but never sends them or visits her.
• Drives an ancient Toyota Tacoma that he routinely takes up to the overlook outside town to pray, curse, or simply sit and listen to music.
• At least two households in Pines Holler blame him for breaking up their daughters.
• Once tried to host a youth canoe trip that ended with two sprained ankles and a missing paddle. It’s still a running joke to this day.
• Says, “God will sort it out” when what he really means is, “I don’t know how to.”
• He believes the Holy Spirit speaks in shame and longing, but he isn’t sure which is louder.

@Skelm

Approved ~

Pines Holler [Not Accepting]

Just a friendly reminder that sheets are due tomorrow <3

Pines Holler [Not Accepting]

@Sugar and Spite @Moon Child @SalemFlame - Aiden here as promised~

The Rookie || Aiden Quinn

_{Faceclaim: Ethan Cutkosky // Color Code: #ff4500}
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_{Full Name:}

Aiden Patrick Quinn

_Nickname(s):

Aiden - commonly addressed as it, answers to it mostly
Patty/Ricky/Pat - any variation is okay but he’ll glare at you. Ricky is his dad.
Punkass/jerkass/asshole -

_Age:

23
April 10th - Aries

_Gender:

Male

_Sexuality:

Straight as the army’s regulations about hair (so very straight)

_Occupation:

Police Officer

_{Place of Residence:}

136 Miner Street - right across the street from Dallas & Molly King

_{Family and Close Connections:}

The Quinn Family - other than being natives of Pine Holler for two generations, there’s nothing to really note about the Quinn Family. They haven’t contributed much to the progression and/or development of the town. They simply exist with a few cases of aggravated assault and dropped charges of DV against both Ricky and Tara. Believe it or not, they're a lot less toxic than Ricky and his first wife were.

Patrick Hunter Quinn || 48 || Manager of McDonalds || Father || FC: Matt Damon
Tara Quinn (nee. Cohen) || 35 || works at the Gas Station || Stepmother || Mikey Madison
Hunter Mason Quinn || 28 || Works as a Mechanic at Jennings Automotive || Older Brother || Nick Robinson
Rachel Buchanan || 46 || Assistant Manager at Biggie's County Corner Store || Mother || FC: Minnie Driver

_Appearance:

Height & Weight: 5’5” || 150lbs
💀 Hair: Brown hair || neck-length, somewhat wavy and curly
💀 Eyes: blue? brown? grey? etc?
💀 Body Type: Ectomorph || Swimmer-like body
💀 Clothing Style: Hip hop urban meets skater kid casual. Aiden dresses a lot like a 2000s skater boy mixed with a 2000s rap fan. Lots of oversized shirts and baggy pants. Old vans and addida’s shoes and various hats and accessories to fit a certain style that Aiden himself feels the most comfortable in. Dark colors too.

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2
3
4

💀 Body Markings: Aiden has a texas-shaped birthmark on his ass. No joking. He literally does.

Tattoos: Surprisingly, he’s not a tattoo person but maybe one day.

_Personality:

Depending on who you ask, Aiden Quinn is either the sweetest dumbass you’ll ever meet or the kind of pimp on face in human form that you just can’t get away from. He can be annoying and sometimes obnoxiously so. He was known for being rude, arrogant, loud, and obscenely stupid. Middle fingers flying in the air when he wanted to stick it to authority and consciously ignorant to what others thought to him. Truly, Aiden is unapologetically himself.

But things in his life forced him to change. He became a new man when he went into the army. A lot of himself stayed the same but he’s a lot more mature about it. He’s generally more disciplined (though the old Aiden still exists). He can still be a wild animal but that animal has been trained and learned a bit of impulse control. Which is probably good given his career. At his core, though, Aiden is a man with a lot of love in his heart and pride in his soul. He loves his town and he wants to serve it. The army didn’t work out for a lot of reasons but being back for over a year, he couldn’t help but want to do something to give back.

_History:
tw: DV

Aiden Patrick Quinn is a native of Pine Holler. As are his parents and their parents before them. That’s about as far back as they go, however. Sometime in the 1900s, when a lot of Irish-born immigrants migrated to the USA, seeking a better life than what they had in Ireland, the Quinns found themselves not going to New York (they were for a bit) but they found themselves going further south. Originally, it was in Charleston, South Carolina but eventually they moved to NC and then eventually settled in Pine Holler. The small town reminded them of their home in Ireland, how the people were welcoming but still suspicious. It took a generation until the Quinn’s were welcomed as fellow Hollers.

The current state of the Quinn Family includes Aiden, his older brother by five years, Hunter Mason, his father, Patrick Hunter “Ricky” Quinn, and Ricky’s wife of 10 years (partner of 14), Tara Quinn. Hunter and Aiden’s mom was around but she hasn’t had a presence in their home in over 15 years. And truth be told, even though Aiden doesn’t remember the bad times enough, Hunter did and that was enough for both to distance themselves from Rachel. She still lives in Pine Holler and sometimes they go and see her and granted, their relationship now is a lot better than what it was, but Aiden wouldn’t say he’s all that close to his mother.

Aiden had a tough time in his childhood. It took him a while to make peace with the fact that his parents’ relationship was always on borrowed time. Hunter tried to shield him from most of the yelling and fights (some of which got physical) as much as they could. As it would just happen, Dallas King lived close enough that he could go to her house and just hang until the storm of Ricky and Rachel passed. Hunter sometimes came with so Aiden wasn’t alone because some of those times he went to Dallas’ place was at night and even if Pine holler was about community, no 6-year-old boy should walk alone at night.

Resentment for his mother crawled into his heart, causing Aiden to grow up angry. Hunter also had his problems, but Aiden came to resent his mother so much that he refused to give her any of his time that the court didn’t require. Ricky mostly got custody after they ruled in his favor but he had to attend mandatory counseling, which he did. For Aiden, however, that resentment became anger and that anger became a habit of attracting trouble. First it was minor stuff: stealing, vandalism, and one time he beat the ever living crud out of some kid who put his family’s name in their mouth. He would also regularly ditch school. Sometimes with Dallas and sometimes on his own.

A few years prior, Aiden kinda hated his stepmom. His complicated emotions at ten made him angry that his parents weren’t together. Yes, he hated his mom and then hated his stepmom for a time. Aiden’s feelings never did make sense and even he had a tough time making sense of them, let alone explaining it to anyone who got confused why he was mad at Rachel and at Tara. In the end, the only person who helped him make sense of was Dallas. They grew up together. She knew what he was really like and nothing would ever change that. Around freshman year…maybe a little before, they started to explore their relationship further than just friends.

And you know what? It lasted. Like for a while. They were together for practically the majority of their time in high school. Unlike Hunter and his off-again, on-again relationship with Charlotte. Aiden and Dal stuck together until they mutually decided to end it. Around the same time, Aiden found a purpose. Something worth pursuing that was more than the small town he loved and hated could offer. For all the shit Pine Holler was, it had a solid ROTC program and regularly, the military branches visited to find anyone interested and when the army came into town, Aiden was interested.

He always did have a love for his country but more than that, he saw it as a way to do something more for himself. Maybe even more for his family.

So when he graduated, he left for basic training. Six months or so later, he was a private in the army. He spent four years in the army, rising up to the rank of Private First Class. He was stationed in a few places around the world and loved it all. Especially when he was able to see Ireland, where his ancestors were from. Then he did a 9-month tour in Iraq. There, though he didn’t get his leg blown up or anything, he did sustain a pretty gnarly sprained back. After a further examination, that sprained back gave him a medical discharge from service, citing his weakened condition in his back would make him a liability for the army. So he was forced to retire after just 3.5 years of being with the Army.

This, naturally, sent Aiden on a downward spiral. He eventually moved back to Pine Holler just a little over a year ago. In that year, he tried to make sense of what happened and tried to not drown in his sorrows. He wasn’t injured anymore but he wasn’t fit to serve his country anymore. So what could he do that would give him a purpose? Do what most retired army soldiers do: become a cop!

And that’s exactly what he did. He took the exam, passed it with flying colors and since six months ago, he started on the beat. And as Val’s rookie partner. You know…the same Val who was a terrible partner to Dallas. The same Val who hurt his best friend. But also the same Val who is his superior.

Aiden hates this.

_{Extra Facts // Headcannons:}

REQUIRED: How does your character feel about the expansion/growth of Pines Holler?
”I wouldn’t hate the expansion if it wasn’t for the fact that these real estate, billionaire fucks were changing my town TOO FAST. I also don’t trust it. Why on earth are they moving in to our town? Why Pine Holler? This shit stinks like a turd left out in the street all summer.”

💀 Aiden might be small but he’s a scrapper and can take a punch. All those times getting into trouble made him into something of a sturdy motherfucker.
💀 It’s not that he has a hatred for it, but anything pickled that isn’t cucumbers makes him gag. Pickled eggs, pickled feet..all of that shit grosses him the fuck out.
💀 He loves all rap and all rock. But it has to be from the 2000s. He can’t stand the new shit. Eminem, 50, green day, nickleback - that’s GOOD music.
💀 Aiden used to be on the fuck authority train but that was before he joined the army. That was before he learned discipline. Now it’s all about respecting HIS authoritah!
💀 Yeah, he’s a big fan of South Park and Family Guy. How could you tell?
💀 He wouldn’t abuse his power but if he caught someone doing things to women or kids while off-duty, he might do things to them that would probably get him fired. But he is a veteran. Nobody would fire a veteran in Pine Holler.
💀 Give him fifteen minutes and he can whip up some good grub out of nothing. He kinda had to learn how to make something out of nothing during basic training. There he kinda learned a lot.
💀 Peaches>melons. If you know you know.

@Altered Tundra

Just one small edit pretty please - Cliff is already at his max with employees over at Jennings 🤣 Would you mind changing his brothers occupation for me? I know it's a super minor thing, I apologize.