Basics
Full Name: Donald Sutton
Nickname: Donnie (He never goes by Donald)
Age: 37
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Gender/Pronouns: cisgender male he/him
Date of Birth: May 15 1989
Hometown: Cypress Cove
Current Occupation: Mechanic at Rust Bucket Garage
Traits: + protective, witty, brave -Lazy, Sneaky, deceitful
About
Tw: Neglect, Abuse, alcohol, drugs.
Donnie's life began with an initial rejection. He was the unplanned product of a drunken, hurried one-night stand and the subsequent societal pressure that forced his parents into a brief, disastrous marriage.
He has only fragmented, hazy memories of his mother. She was a ghost even when she was physically present—cold, resentful, and utterly unsuited for parenthood. She eventually made the inevitable escape when Donnie was just five, a relief to her but a devastating confirmation to the young boy that he was unwanted.
He was left with his father, a man whose casual drinking quickly spiraled into full-blown, violent alcoholism fueled by anger and self-pity. Their home was a cramped, perpetually messy trailer in the heart of the downtown South Side trailer park—a community he couldn't leave and one that became the backdrop for his formative trauma.
Donnie's childhood was a series of quick evasions and attempts to make himself invisible. He learned to read moods, lie effortlessly, and steal minor things just to get by or numb the pain. These early lessons in deceit and sneaky behavior were the foundation of his adult personality.
Donnie has a long, documented history with drugs—both using and low-level dealing. This association cemented his dishonorable reputation, marking him as unreliable and dangerous to the conservative local community.
The inevitable happened in his early twenties. A botched deal led to a sharp stay in prison. This wasn't a reformative experience; it hardened him, made him even more suspicious, and taught him new, darker lessons in survival and manipulation. He carries the shame and the suspicion of a former convict with him every day.
Donnie is notoriously lazy on the clock. He cuts corners, takes excessively long breaks, and will delegate any difficult or dirty job to someone else. He views the job as a means to an end, a place to hide and make just enough money to survive.
If someone manages to get past his defenses and earns his trust—a rare feat—Donnie becomes fiercely protective. He understands pain and rejection better than anyone, and he will not stand by if someone he cares about is being hurt or taken advantage of. He's the kind of man who would break the law to help a friend in genuine trouble.
Quick Facts;
The Sutton last name is worn with a badge of dishonor around Cypress Cove, the story of his parents traveled fast and the family doesn't have a great reputation with the locals- Donnie is bottom of the barrel according to most of Cypress Coves long time residents but thats where he feels most comfortable.
He is covered in tattoos, most of them are from scratchers or stick and poke he did himself.
Donnie doesn't actually own a full set of tools. He has "permanently borrowed" most of his equipment from work.
Despite being perpetually broke or running low on cash, Donnie always magically has enough money for a pack of cigarettes. He treats cigarettes like actual currency around the trailer park and South Side docks, using them to buy information, trade for small favors, or talk his way out of minor trouble.
Growing up trying to avoid his father's sudden outbursts taught him how to move completely silently. Even though he can act loud, smug, and obnoxious on purpose, he has a habit of accidentally startling people because he walks without making a sound, a leftover survival trait from his childhood.
He isn't outwardly affectionate, if he actually grows fond of someone- he will never explicitly say he cares about them or offer sweet words. Instead, his love language is subtle backhanded favors like secretly changing the brake pads while complaining about how much of a disaster they are.
He doesn't keep his money in a bank, instead he hides it in low-tech hiding spots like inside an empty coffee tin or taped to the inside of his sock drawer.
Although he doesn't remember his mothers face, the cheap smell of artificial cherry lip balm mixed with cigarettes will make him freeze for a second.
Donnie refuses to buy the latest smartphone (not that he has the money to anyway) instead he uses a beat up 3g flip phone because he is positive the government uses phones to eaves drop into our lives.
Donnie has a running, deadpan joke (that no one is entirely sure is actually a joke) about the birds in town being surveillance drones. He is often seen muttering to them about how he knows they are watching.
Donnie hasn't bought a lighter in 10 years but his pockets are always carrying at least two. He got into the habit of absentmindedly pocketing any lighter left on a table or counter. He doesn't even realize he's doing it anymore.
Donnie does not own a car, which is funny considering he "works" on them all day. Donnie gets most places by walking or taking public transport but his normal hang out spaces are within a 5 mile radius most days.
His current living arrangements include being sprawled out half naked on someones couch, usually passed out drunk. Occasionally you can find him laying on the streets of South Side or a not so comfy bench but his main residence is a shabby run down RV behind his dads trailer.
