⊠MICHAEL MALARKEY, CIS MALE, HE/HIM ⊠JAMES FALCO the THIRTY-FOUR year old has been in Hidehill for SIXTEEN YEARS and was a FRENEMY to Ronnie Nilsson, the most recent shadow of Hidehill. Whispers on the streets are that the TATTOO ARTIST AT SORRY MOM who lives in HOVE LAKE are said to be RESOURCEFUL and SELF-SERVING but I guess weâll find out for ourselves.
tw: absent parents, jail/criminal history
James grew up in Mountain Lakes, New Jersey, a rich lakeside suburb just an hour outside New York. His mother was a wedding planner and his father a real estate developer. Both were often too preoccupied with their jobs to take care of James, so early on he had grown to know his nanny, Lena, better than his own family.Â
When he reached 8th grade, his parents enrolled him in boarding school. While he had certainly not been a saint before, being shipped off had certainly added to his behavior. His parents may have wanted to pretend they didnât have a kidâ save for when it was convenient with clients and Christmas cardsâ but they couldnât exactly pretend when he was getting expelled. The first time happened his sophomore year, getting caught smuggling liquor into the dorm. A big donation had gotten the next school to warm up come acceptance, then after his first stint of trouble, selling answer keys to midterm exams, letting him get away with a slap on the wrist. There was no third chance after heâd gotten caught in the deanâs office with the deanâs daughter.
After that, his father cut ties (for the first time). âYouâre eighteen. You want to act like itâs you against the world, fine have it.â On his own, James reached out to one of his best friendâs from the year above and landed himself a play to stay in Hidehill. Coming in two months into senior year and with a bit of a reputation following him from the North, James stuck out. Good thing he liked attention.
In place of college, James started working construction jobs, having picked up a few things listening in on his dadâs business calls and the sight trips where heâd been shoved off to a corner. It felt good to work with his hands and the work definitely helped to keep him in shape, but growing up more privileged he missed the luxuries. So he reached out and, surprisingly, earned an invitation to Thanksgiving Dinner.
Then twenty-two, it had been about a year and half that James had returned to his familyâs good graces. Life spent half home, half in Hidehill. He got the steak dinners, free access to his fatherâs boat, vacations to Greece, Iceland, and weekends in Marthaâs Vineyard. He got comfortable and comfortable brought back old habits, old thoughts. Soon James was pocketing Rolexâs and grabbing bills from his motherâs purse that would go unnoticed given the shopping bags ever passing through the door. Then his house extended to neighbors and friends. He got cocky. Got reckless. He didnât think theyâd notice one bottle of scotch; didnât account for it to be worth $10,000. Also didnât account for them to press charges but sure enough security footage in-hand, the police came and took him in. Privilege let his father bail him out and throw money to make the problem go away. But that was it, the last straw.
Back in Hidehill, James didnât do much to improve his behavior, he just got better at picking and choosing his moments. At the end of the day, he was a smart guy, too smart to go and get himself locked up. So while heâs been handcuffed and thrown in the back of cop cars, James only knew what it was like to stay in a cell for the night.
His interest in tattoo came when he got his first, an angel on his thigh. Heâd always considered himself to be fairly decent at art, though hadnât put much consideration towards it. His father, his teachers, the world had stressed on him the importance of those core classes. Art was a hobby, not a career. After his third visit to Sorry Mom, James inquired about becoming a tattoo apprentice. The whole thing was a process, especially with him and his pride, but with time he got there, paid his dues. Now heâs one of their main artists, his focus on Black and Grey realism.
He had a tattoo of a falcon on his chest.
He currently lives in Hove Lake, though not in a place of his own. He found someone renting out their guest house. Being near the lake reminds him of where he grew up. Sitting out on the dock is one of his favorite pastimes.
Despite what some of his friends may say, he did not steal his dog. Benny hopped in his car! He tried getting him out but the man chose him. And as far as he saw there were no missing dog flyers. At now having had him three years, it was finderâs keepers.
Occasionally picks up odd jobs, mostly construction but occasionally security or pet-sitting. He really does have a soft spot when it comes to animals.
Generally a know-it-all, cocky, and smug, but charming when he wants to be. Would rather be the one to hurt someone than to get hurt.
An asshole.
CONNECTIONS:
People he knew from New Jersey/New York, there until he was 18.
Ex-coworkers
Tattoo clients
FWB
One-night stands
Exes - limiting to 2, short-term
Best friend.
Friends.
Reluctantly friends with him.
Hate him.
Person whoâs house heâs renting at (Hove Lake)
Met on a vacation maybe?
More...Â
