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Post by Deleted on Jan 15, 2018 20:55:06 GMT -5
sleepyhead // passion pit a roleplay spot for venus and @viridian plot"is go Oíche Fhéil Eoin, ní thiocfaidh mé aniar"until the night of Saint John*, I will not come back. (translates roughly to midsummer's night)
- two complete strangers, each harboring their own strange set of personal problems, just so happen to be catching the same train together, at three in the morning. a strange but deep conversation between the two ensues.
characters jasper owen
Jasper Owen -- twenty years old IFNP - cancer A rather unassuming but mostly unkempt looking young man that most certainly embodies the spirit of grunge. He stands at just under 5'11", and has a bit of a slight figure for an adult man; even though he's slim and slender, with a decent degree of muscle tone to his arms, stomach, and legs, he's skinny in the underfed sort of way (in fact, he has difficulty putting on weight, and keeping it is often a struggle). His general lack of care about his physical appearance shows itself in his haphazardly cut dirty blond hair, which usually looks too tousled to be tasteful, and his constant stubbly facial hair. His blue eyes aren't the bright, vibrant blue hue that most natural blondes have: instead, it's a more faded, worn gray-blue tone, close to the color of an old pair of Levi's. They are usually flanked by faint dark circles underneath them, reflecting his terrible sleeping habits. Jasper's posture isn't very good most of the time, as he stands with a slight slouch--and to add to his already somewhat off-putting appearance, his natural resting face is a scowl. The years clearly haven't treated him well, but he still manages a somewhat attractive silhouette--if you're into the grunge look. The man isn't one for fashion, really, and he tends to wear and buy what is cheapest. Outfit-wise, he tends to cycle through dark-colored jeans and Henley shirts, with the occasional v-neck or graphic band t-shirt thrown in. The only items of clothing he bothered to put much money into are his boots and leather jacket, both of which are worn soft and scuffed from long years of wear and tear. Most of his scars are limited to his hands and forearms, mostly little nicks from knife scraps here and there, but two thick pink scars mar the insides of each wrist--and asking about them will get anyone a prompt knuckle to the nose. He also has some tattoos, primarily plain black ink ones, most of which are on his upper arms and chest, hidden by clothing for the most part. As far as this young man's personality is concerned, there is much more to him than what first meets the eye. To strangers, and basically everyone besides the few in his inner circle, Jasper portrays himself as disagreeable and unlikable. He acts in an aloof, uncaring, defiant manner, quietly rebelling against what he believes is the status quo. The blond is incredibly bitter. He cannot stand being told what to do, regardless of who it is that's telling him, and will respond to even the smallest implication of this with aggression and hostility--he's got a a sharp glare and even sharper tongue. Even his sense of humor is marked by a certain intangible darkness and negativity, and often times, his sarcasm cuts much deeper than friendly humor. His jokes also tend to be self-deprecating, reflecting his low self-esteem, which to people that don't know him well, could be a potential source of concern. The young man isn't afraid to start a fight, whether it be verbal or physical--he isn't afraid of much, to be honest. Well, it's not so much that he isn't afraid of anything, because he certainly has his aversions; there's not much in general that he cares about, and he goes through life with an apathetic attitude. Beneath that abrasive surface, however, those few very lucky individuals will be met with a surprisingly thoughtful young man. Though he might not be book smart, Jasper's quietness is of the intellectual kind, and he'll surprise even the people that know him best with particularly thought-provoking conversation. He likes to tackle the big topics people tend to avoid, such as religion, politics, and ideology. His initial meanness is actually a cover for his shyness and deep insecurity; his introversion embarrasses him, as does nearly aspect of his appearance. He can be quite kind at times, and even though he isn't one for much physical affection, such as kissing or hugging, his level of intimacy with someone can be measured by how much of himself he reveals to them. Jasper is an extremely private person, with good reason to be, so his trust is very difficult to earn. That being said, once that sacred trust with someone is broken, there's basically no way that relationship can be repaired.trivia- Jasper hails from Seattle, Washington (he has an affinity for the fog and the rain)
- he barely graduated high school. he used to dream of attending a music college, but given his financial situation, it doesn't seem very likely.
- he very obviously has some anxiety disorder and exhibits many symptoms of depression. however, he lacked the resources to get properly diagnosed, so both conditions have been left untreated.
- he comes from a neglectful, addict single mother, with no real constant father figure in his life.
- playing guitar (electric and acoustic), singing, and songwriting are essential parts of Jasper's life. without them, he would have ended up more without purpose than he already sort of is; to some extent, the pipe dream he has of someday making it big has kept him going.
- he uses some drugs recreationally from time to time, mostly hallucinogens and marijuana. he also smokes cigarettes quite frequently.
jude
add character desc.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 15, 2018 22:06:22 GMT -5
ok I swear I'll have this starter done soon. events keep popping up that I forgot about that have more priority than this and aaaaa II'm sorry. at least I made this page though! it's on my mind! I promise lmao
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Post by venus on Jan 15, 2018 23:00:23 GMT -5
it's fine yo i know how life gets in the way. i've been really busy with work ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ take ya time
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Post by venus on Jan 17, 2018 0:59:49 GMT -5
also i'll def get a description up for jude in the meantime whenever i'm not lazy
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Post by Deleted on Jan 18, 2018 19:39:03 GMT -5
jasper owen. seattle, wa. 2:19 a.m.
Something pulled him away from his hometown with a greater strength and sense of purpose than Jasper had ever felt before.
The call reached him as he sat behind the cashier's desk at his day job, which was taking money, pushing some buttons, and giving change back at a record store downtown. On occasion, he'd halfheartedly teach some kid whose parents could afford lessons how to play the guitar. It ended up becoming a very introspective job, one where he was left, to his pleasure, to sit and brood at his chair for most of the day, only rarely interacting with the few hipsters that could afford to buy anything they sold.
But that amount of time alone with his thoughts proved dangerous, in a way. In the many quiet, lonely hours in the store, Jasper could only remember and reflect and continue to dwell on those many painful things in his life--not even necessarily that deep into his past. Growing up the way he did and seeing what he saw only served to breed more bad in his life. He'd almost lost this job several times for being late, showing up to work stoned, or simply not showing up at all. He'd nearly been evicted a handful of times, had his lights and water turned off by the utility companies. He could barely keep his few friends, and he was absolutely miserable.
So what made that day any more different than the others? The blond dreamed of leaving this godforsaken place about as many times as it rained there, but, he lacked any kind of real incentive to do so--nevermind completely lacking the funds necessary to pick up and move on a whim even possible. Where would he go? What would he do, and how would he do it? The answers to all of them were always 'I just don't know,' and that was enough to settle the matter until the next bad day rolled around.
None of those answers bothered him with their usual urgency today. That fateful day was about as mundane as the hundreds that rolled before it, with no notable incidents at all--and that was what made it so incredibly unbearable for him. Ever since the day he realized something wasn't right in his home, something urgent stirred deep in Jasper's chest, and it was finally knocked loose enough to drive him to move. He couldn't name it--hell, he didn't even know what was happening--but he still listened intently to what it had to say and did accordingly.
When his shift ended at ten o'clock, Jasper collected his things and rushed to the bus stop perhaps faster than he had ever done so in his entire life. After getting off at the stop in front of his apartment building, he shuffled through the lobby, intending to just get into the elevator and do whatever he thought was best once he reached his room, but his landlord stopped him.
Jasper cringed at the sight of that short, portly, balding man. Rent's due, he remembered, and his blood ran cold. The (unbeknownst to his employer, final) check felt somehow heavy in his pocket. I wanted to save that for something else. Goddamnit.
His landlord shook a stubby finger at him. "Mr. Owen!" He had the deep, growling rasp of a longtime smoker (Jasper wondered from time to time whether or not he'd develop that same voice someday, and the thought of it scared him). "Just the man I wanted to see. You know your rent is due today, right?"
"Yes, I'm aware," he growled back, glancing at him over his shoulder as he still made his way to the elevator. "I just got paid but I have other bills to take care of first. Can I pay you tomorrow?"
He could hear the older man grumble with dissatisfaction behind him. "Fine," he spat after a moment's deliberation. "I'll be waiting for you here, at eight o'clock in the morning, sharp. You hear me, kid?" Jasper had slipped into the elevator. "Hey! I'll still be here! If you aren't here, I'll call the--" The metal doors slid across and closed at precisely the right moment, and when his world was quiet once more, the blond sighed to himself.
He glanced uneasily at his cracked phone screen, checking the time. "What am I gonna do?" He murmured, half to himself, half to whatever force that shuffled his life around with about as much care and attention as someone shuffling a deck of cards--or at least, that was how he saw it. It was all arbitrary, unnecessary, hurtful. All he wanted was some semblance of peace to arise from this unending chaos and uncertainty.
Over the period of several hours, Jasper found some kind of solution to his woes, or, at least, whatever it was that he was doing seemed to alleviate his anxieties. He packed the only duffel bag he owned full of his few clothes and essentials, and a few bags of Lay's from his kitchen cabinets that hadn't expired yet. Then, he put his two guitars--one ancient and acoustic, the other a wine red Fender--into their respective cases, with all the care he could muster, which always happened to be quite a lot for his beloved instruments.
Then, before packing his barely functional laptop away, he bought a series of train tickets that would eventually take him from here to Los Angeles, California. That alone was a considerable chunk of his savings, but the fact that he dared to act on his long-held dream was remarkable, even to him, in his almost rapture of activity and conviction. Why LA? It was the place where nobodies became somebodies, where opportunity fell with the sunshine, as long as he could differentiate himself from the crowd.
Jasper caught a glimpse of himself in a reflection in a window as he made his way out of his apartment for the last time, completely intent on just not paying his bills. He looked into his tired eyes, eyed his modest collection of stick and pokes, and his eyes drifted over his scars before resting on the guitar case he held in each hand. He sure didn't look like Hollywood. Maybe, just maybe.. I look like music. And with that, he stepped as confidently as he could out of the one bedroom apartment.
His ride to the train station from his building only took about ten minutes on the bus, but it passed by quickly with classic rock n' roll pouring out from his headphones. The high tempo rhythms of Jimi Hendrix's best only continued to stir and excite whatever unnamed emotion that sat in his chest, so by the time he arrived with his things to the station, he could hardly contain his nervous energy to just get on and leave this place behind. His first train was to leave in exactly eleven minutes, but at the time, it seemed like an eternity. But, despite himself, Jasper didn't start to overthink his drastic decision as soon as he had time to mull it over again; he was oddly calm and collectedm just ready to get up and go.
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Post by venus on Jan 27, 2018 21:56:12 GMT -5
wow geez it's been over a week and i haven't posted a reply, sorry! i went on a mini vacation and then work kept me busy right after, but i definitely plan to finish my reply soon and post, probably either tonight or more likely tomorrow. sorry about the delay tho yikes
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