❝ʙᴏʏ, ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴇᴛ ᴍʏ ɢᴜᴛꜱ ᴛɪᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ɪɴ ꜱᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ᴛᴡɪꜱᴛᴇᴅ ɴᴏɪꜱʏ ʀᴜᴄᴋᴜꜱ❞
Character Name: Aiden Wright Skeleton Name: The Mechanic Skeleton Species: info coming soon. Age: 34 years. Character Gender and Pronouns: Cis Male (He/Him/His) Occupation: Mechanic. Face-claim: Lakeith Stanfield Faction: Townsfolk
full name: Aiden Wright nicknames: none (yet) age: 34 years birthday: april 20 hometown: little hope, tx current location: unfinished, usa species: human ethnicity: black american nationality: american gender: cis male pronouns: he/him/his occupation: mechanic living arrangements: apartments languages: english, spanish accent: average american accent, some twang to it
ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴ ꜱᴇɴᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ, ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʟɪꜰᴛ ᴀ ᴄʟᴀᴡ ᴏʀ ᴄᴜᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴏꜰꜰ 'ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ʀᴀᴍʙʟɪɴɢ ᴀꜱ ɪ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴀᴍ ɪ ꜱʜᴀᴍʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴀɪʀ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴛᴀʙʟᴇꜱ
hair: black hair length: short, wavy, curled eye color: brown height: 6'2 build toned: - lumberjack's build sexual orientation: homosexual + demiromantic cock size: 10.5 inches sexual position: verse, occasional side sexual alignment: dom-lean kinks: oral fixation, frottage, acousticophilia anti-kinks: ageplay, daddy, scat, vomit, etc. notable features: wears a lot of jean, plaid, and handkerchiefs.
ʙᴏʏ, ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀʀᴛʏʀ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴘʀᴀʏ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʜᴀʀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴏ ꜱᴏʙᴇʀ
astrological sign: taurus sun, idk moon, tbd rising positive traits: charming, smooth talker, seductive negative traits: manipulative, paranoid, isolated myers brigg: esfp element: earth enneagram: the enthusiast temperament: melancholic aspect: breath lunar sway: derse god tier: rouge of breath moral alignment: morally neutral primary vice: greed primary virtue: temperance fears: backing the wrong horse, decisions being made for him habits/ quirks: dogears everything. while the sermons are a bit questionable, Aiden doesn't mind listening to the music in the Scales of Rebirth's tents from time to time. pet peeves: pushy people hobbies: might start a wind chime collection
ɪꜰ ɪ ꜱᴀɪᴅ ɪᴛ ᴘʟᴀɪɴʟʏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ-ʀʜʏᴍᴇꜱ, ᴀʟʟ ᴄᴀɢᴇʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ꜱᴍɪʟᴇ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴏꜰ ʙʀᴀᴄᴋᴇᴛꜱ ᴏʀ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴍᴇ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʟʏ?
cw: descriptions of violence and blood.
Growing up outside of Unfinished, Aiden had only known the life of a thief. In a time where bargaining had been an option amongst the paths he has walked. He hadn't asked anybody if someone living in Unfinished were particularly parched of choices. He wouldn't want to see insensitive, of course. Nowhere else left to go, Aiden had thought to himself. The shirt he had on still peppered with the aftermath of what he had caused, of the monster he created.
❝ʙᴏʏ, ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʟᴏᴏʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀꜱ, ᴅʀɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴍʏ ᴋɪꜱꜱᴇꜱ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ꜱᴏ ᴠᴀᴄᴀɴᴛ, ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ɪᴛ, ɪꜰ ɪ ꜱᴀɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴅᴇʟɪᴄɪᴏᴜꜱ?❞
He had left his apartment that day bright eyed and proud, his arm wrapped around his waist. The last time Aiden would get to exchange looks before it all came to a crashing halt. A pair of large hands grabbed at him and Aiden, pulling him out of the dreamy haze that always seemed to capture his face in the softest light. After that morning, the dreamlike sunset seemed to be just as made up, a fairy tale. A large hand twisted itself around Aiden's face, wrapped and squeezed around his split lip and swollen eyes. The sound of furniture being tossed across the room becomes the backing track to Aiden's torment. A glint of gold, tucked away beneath the hotel's built in barstool called to Aiden, the twinge of greed and relief in seeing it, even as the breath was squeezed from himself.
❝ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ ᴅɪᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴏᴛꜱ ɪɴꜱɪᴅᴇ ᴍᴇ, ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ, ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ꜱᴛᴀʏ ʙᴇꜱɪᴅᴇ ᴍᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴜɪᴅᴇ ᴍᴇ, ᴜɴʀᴇQᴜɪᴛᴇᴅ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ-ʙᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ❞
A tired, hoarse, and breathless beg chokes in Aiden's throat. He passes out, awoken by his warmth as the blood soaked into his clothes. Aiden leaves hours later, the glint of gold in Aiden's hand, wiped of blood and tears and a drowning stream of red in his thought. Driving past the welcome sign when he first arrived - if speeding and reaching 90 in an old beat up cruiser could qualify as driving - Aiden would glance up at his rear view, as if the tidal wave of red would rise out of the horizon. He works in the autoshop now, his eyes still darting towards the horizon from time to time.
