ruby sullivan

BASICS: FULL NAME: Riley Sullivan NICKNAMES: Ruby DATE OF BIRTH: 1990.03.10 AGE: 34 HOMETOWN: Fog Gates, Nightrest ORIENTATION: Pansexual GENDER: Genderqueer, she/they ETHNICITY: Irish OCCUPATION: Sales associate at The Weeping Glass, bassist in Lunara Kaplan’s band

PHYSICAL: FACECLAIM: Katie McGrath HEIGHT: 5’9” BUILD: Thin, tall SKIN: Pale HAIR: Black EYES: Dark brown EXTRAS: None

PERSONALITY: + traits: logical, loyal, good friend to those that let her in...and she lets in - traits: cold, depressed, seems heartless, quick tongue

background:

Leaving her family background fairly open, in order to plot with her brother later on, so here's the basics.

She moved out into a college dorm at 18, and hasn’t been back home since.

They went to college at Salem State University, getting a bachelors in music, before taking online graduate classes at a different college for music education.

She's been considering taking on a second job at Wardwell being a music teacher, but would need a push in order to actually take the leap.

They currently work at The Weeping Glass in order to keep enough money to hold a stable apartment in Fog Gates. They’re used to not having much money, and know how to be frugal.

nightrest: (tw: substance usage/abuse)

Ruby always wanted to make it big outside of Nightrest, but never seemed to be able to make it work. They've been associated with other small acts in the past, but always ended up coming back to Lu.

"Ruby" used to be just a stage name, until people started calling her that off-stage and the nickname stuck.

They haven’t necessarily made the best decisions in their life, having deep ties to cigarettes and alcohol ever since they turned of age.

She has a reputation as a heartbreaker, and has left a trail of bad relationships in her wake.

She has very low self-esteem, often leading to her thinking she’s going to end up alone—which is generally when she starts avoiding her partners.

other (didn't fit anywhere else):

She has a puppy!! Harley, a golden retriever. She is Ruby’s pride and joy.

wanted connections:

her brother. (sending a wc to the main later)

exs of all kinds, good and bad terms.

friends from out of town.

confidants and drinking buddies.

a gang of girl friends.

old best friends from school.

After a long day, Ruby settles in at The Daily Dose. She’s a frequent coffee drinker, but not someone that often hangs around the small cafe—Deadlights is more her style. But they had been so busy with meeting Yasmin and Emine at the movies and doing some last-minute shopping that the cafe was the best place to crash.

Coffee in one hand, they’re scribbling notes with the other, lyrics scrawled under the tip of their pen. Nothing coherent, it doesn’t even rhyme—it’s more like poetry at this point in time—but there’s no way she’s focused enough to edit at this point. She just needs to get it out of her head and down on paper.

Somebody, it must have been a staff member, stops near her table to tell her they’re closing up. She blinks out of her stupor, sending them a nod before sighing. A final sip of her drink and she’ll head out. It’s getting late, anyway, and her weekend isn't exactly shaping up to be a lazy, hang-out-in-bed kind of time.

A blurry figure in the corner of her vision catches her eye, and Ruby turns as they set down their cup, squinting through the dark toward it. Unfortunately, the lifted trunk of their car blocks her full view of the person, and she can’t quite see whatever it is they’re holding. All she can see is their grey hoodie, and the way their armload flops. Almost like a corpse.

A winding feeling works its way through her gut, fear and curiosity grasping at her heart with a cold hand. Coffee and notebook abandoned, she stands, brows furrowed as she moves towards the door. Their steps speed up the closer to out of the store they get, pushing through the glass doors that lead inside as they move away from the cafe.

She definitely shouldn’t be moving closer, but if something’s gone wrong, she needs to know—either to warn others or to help. “Hello?” they call out, almost against their better instincts. Their voice is firm, somewhat angry as they step closer, high heels clicking on the concrete sidewalk. What is going on over there?

They round the corner of the car, but just as they’re about to move closer there’s a sharp pain in between her shoulder blades. It’s everything she can do not to scream as stumbles forward, heel catching on the sidewalk and causing her to crumble to the ground in agony. Their hair flips over their face, effectively blocking any further shot she may have had to catch the murderer in action.

Not that it matters; there’s no way she’s walking out of this. Another ripple of pain shoots through her as the knife is abruptly pulled out. She can feel the warm sensation of blood trickling down their back, staining their t-shirt with a deep red. They can’t take a deep enough breath to counteract the aching wound, only shallow gasps coming out as they reach desperately forward. If they can crawl away from their attacker, maybe they can get free. Somehow.

The intense, sharp feeling returns as the knife bites into her back again. And again, and again, and again, pain lancing throughout their whole body in spasms as the killer relentlessly attacks. Inwardly, she’s cursing herself for not traveling away with Lu, for not sticking up in New York with one of their many failed gigs. But Icarus flew too close to the sun. Her efforts were all for naught, and it ended tonight. 

They blinked, memories flashing before their eyes, too fast to count. 

Dee. Her best friend from high school, and one of the only ones that had stuck. Long nights spent talking about any subject under the sun. The other woman’s eternal optimism. Bonding over fashion. 

Yasmin. Playdates with Emine, or girl days with her mom. Just spending time in the other's presence. Coffee, drinks, parties, you name it. They’d literally just seen the other two earlier that day. Thank god they’d made it to the movies. 

Vera. One of her closest friends. Long wine nights around the tv—hell, they'd had one just a few days ago. (Now, they would never happen again.) The only one she'd consistently trusted with her secrets, aside from Kyle. 

Kyle. God, Kyle. Hadn’t he lost enough? It felt like only a few days ago that she’d apologized, their aggressive words at the gala still echoing within their skull. They still hadn't forgiven themselves though. Sure, they'd fought before, but never like that. And now, she'd never get a chance to fix things.